Forgetful Flames
by Just-Corey
Summary: Having no idea who or what you are can be a pain in the ass at times. Couple that with an obscure, impossible request, and you have yourself a journey. Now as to that journey being enjoyable, well, that's for you to decide.
1. Prologue

_Huff. I don't like waiting like this. I guess I really don't have any choice in complaining, as you can't really get angry at a king for requesting your audience. It's just one of those things that you don't do. Besides, I think the main reason I feel like this is because I'm excited. I need to stop tapping my foot though, that guard is started to look annoyed. He doesn't even really need to be there. There are plenty of guards at the castle entrance; it seems a little excessive in my opinion. Whatever. _

_Again, I guess I can't exactly be bothered by complaining either. The man did save my life. Hugh, don't go there. _

Try as I might, my mind wandered back to my first real memories. A lot of fire, that much I know. Where it came from I can only guess. I glance down at my hands, and know I have a few ideas, but simply shrug, trying not to dwell on that. It doesn't work.

It's kind of interesting when I maul over it later in life. Well, not really later, since it's only been about three months. _Which reminds me, I need to find out when my birthday is._ Sighing, I try again not to remember that day. Again, I fail.

The smell of burning wood, and god knows what else, are what figure most prominently in my memories. There was a faint herb under smell to go along with the wood. The fire was just… Everywhere. It's a strangely curious thing fire, and by strange, I mean fucking insane. The scholars at the arcane university where I'm staying have told me its best to just equate it to a ravenous animal, which actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it. I still remember the lecture they'd given me;

_Look at it this way, a hungry animal will consume food until its hunger is sated. Fire works the same way, except it never gets sated. It just keeps burning. That's why you need to learn to control your magic; otherwise your own fire will turn on you, and consider you on the dinner plate. Worse still, it'll consume those around you, whether you intended it to or not. That's why you need to learn to control magic. If you don't, it goes horribly awry. We've lost more mages then you can imagine that way. _

I sigh again, and shuffle my feet. My foot's been tapping unconsciously again, and I stop it. Still, the guard nearest me is rubbing his temples. I don't mind the king insisting I take magic training. I can't exactly turn him down. I feel fairly certain that he's going to have me recruited into the Alliance military sooner or later. Apparently we're at war with a group of races called the Horde. I'm not someone big on fighting, but as I said, I can't exactly turn him down. The guy saved my life. Or at least, that's the story. I still can't figure out what I was doing on the outskirts of Stormwind. High Elves live in Quel'Thalas. Still, I guess that isn't as strange as being found in a burning apothecary.

Which carries my thoughts over to when I woke up after that fire. First things my eyes registered was the King sitting beside my bed. Of course, I didn't know it at the time. I thought he was just some human soldier, maybe a knights, though it probably should have stricken me odd that he was talking in Thalassian… Of course, I was still delirious from my barbeque ordeal.

I turn over the small green sphere he'd given me then. I didn't know it at the time, and I still haven't bothered to find out. He told me, _don't tell anyone you have it. It's yours, the priest found it on you when we took you to be healed. Just keep it on you at all times, and make sure only people you trust know about it._

I turn the small green sphere over in my and, thumbing it absent minded, letting it sit in palm after one more spin. It doesn't do anything apparently. The Archmage at the university told me it was a simply charm, designed to hold swirling green… Well it appeared to be fire, but I can't really tell. It has a smoky texture to the flames too, so maybe… No, I've given myself enough headaches trying to figure it out. The Archmage was a little hesitant when I showed him it though. Seemed to think I stole it. Didn't let him hold on to it long enough to wonder where it came from.

Bored, I tossed the small sphere into the air, following its flight with my eyes. I catch it, and do it again. I keep this ball more for fancy then actual use. I feel safer when I have it, if that makes any sense. Tossing it into the air again, I miss catching it, and it hits the slanted floor with a dull thump. I scramble after it as it rolls away, but stop short as an armoured glove picks it up. Straightening myself, a heavy armoured man stares at me from behind his helmets eye holes. I hadn't even realised he'd moved when I saw the ball flying towards me. Shutting my eyes and bracing for impact, I prepare for a face full of pain. Remarkably, said pain never actually occurred. The ball made a small thumping sound, then another. My eyes open, I see it at my feet.

The man looks at me a moment, with maybe one of his eyebrows arched. I glare at him, but he simply turns away and goes in through the doors, not heeding the protest of the previously snickering guard.

_Asshole, _I thought, and slumped against the wall again. The guard had returned to his post, though he seemed even more disgruntled then before. Sighing for what seemed like, and probably was, the hundredth time today, I tossed the sphere into the air, again, catching the black reflection of my hair in its shine as it came down again. _My hair does need to be cut,_ I thought to myself, trying to ignore a guard who'd just materialised next to me. There was a barbershop in the city somewhere, and I should probably go there, if only I can find the damn place. Finding anything in this down has proven to be a damn nightmare and-

" Didn't you hear me ye' damned elf! Get in here before the kings decides he no longer wishes your bloody company!" The Guard growled, his head poking out of the door. I jumped, startled, and stuffed the sphere into my pocket.

Swallowing slowly, I take a deep breath before stepping into the from.

Oo----------oO

Well, I redid, the introduction, mainly because I found the original one didn't fit with what I wanted to do with him as a Character. The original was too dark and angst and this one is more fitting in my opinion.


	2. Of Fish and Falacies

The elf stepped slowly into the chamber, light shinning in through several windows laced about the vaulted ceiling. The throne was empty, its gold shining slightly in the filtered light. Varian was off to the side, pouring over something on a table. The draenei ambassador stood next to him looking rather pensive, and the two were muttering things back and forth. Off to Varian's right was the mane of silver hair tinted purple. From the look of the armor, it appeared to be a man.

The elf walked slowly towards Varian, swallowing quickly several times. The ambassador turned up to look at him, and the elf was transfixed with a stern, slightly angry glare. The silver haired man turned around and regarded him as well, eyes shinning through his helmet. His cloak was ripped and tattered, the entire bottom seemingly cut off.

"Warden, I do not believe we should go from this direction. There is a more suitable side hatch we can use to assault this keep…" Varian said, still facing the table. He looked toward the warden and noted that he was no longer staring at the table, and turned to regard the guest.

"Ah, Rict'thiel, excellent. I'm glad you were able to answer my summons." He said, beckoning Rict closer. Rict kneeled, lowering his head, causing his dark black hair to fall around his face.

"I-I am glad to be so looked upon my lord." He managed to stammer after a moment. He rose again and tentatively moved towards the group. The gaze of the draenei softened as he cast a slight knowing smile. The draenei turned back the table with Varian, while the Warden kept his gaze upon the Rict.

Rict could have sworn the elf shivered slightly. He advanced to the table, and noticed a roster on the table, listing names. His name, and the ambassador's were crossed out, along with Tyrande Whisperwind's, which had a tiny side note written beside it in illegible print. Varian's writing was apparently not one of his strong suits. That left four names on the roster. Directly after his own was that of Jaina Proudmoore, followed by both King Magni Bronzebeard and his brother Brann. The final name was that of Velen, which was being blotted out by Varian, who wrote ambassador replacing next to it. Rict swallowed even harder as he read the list a second time. Sweat began to collect at his brow.

Rict'thiel to his place across the table and noted that there were maps upon the table. They were of some continent he had never heard of. He still wasn't perfectly fluent in common, and the only part he could make out was the last letter, "d." The words appeared to be in Varian's writing again. He raised his head, and opened his mouth to ask why he had been summoned when Varian began to talk.

"This is Northrend Rict'thiel. I know you can't remember your past, but tell me, have you heard of the scourge?" He said, still starring at the map, his hands gripping the corner of the map.

Rict'thiel felt a shiver go down his spine at the mention of that word, but he couldn't figure out why. Rict turned his gaze to the ambassador, but caught only the side of his face as the draenei looked away, his eyes glazed somewhat.

"I'm sorry my lord, but no, I have not. Is it a weapon of the horde?" He asked, his gaze drifting to that of the warden, who simply locked eyes with those of Rict'thiel. His hands were trembling ever so slightly, but if he made any notice of it, he said nothing. Rict'thiel turned away, looking back to the map, unnerved even more then before. He felt his hand growing hot, but ignored it.

Varian silently looked at the map, and said, " Thank the light, no. No, the scourge is something much worse then the Horde. Let me ask you a different question. Do you know of the undead?"

Rict'thiel nodded his head, assenting that he had, "Only from the textbooks your scholars have shown me my lo-" Varian cut him off. He raised his hand, silencing Rict. He raised his head and regarded the elf.

"This is a meeting of equals, and I would prefer if you referred to me as Varian, or Wrynn. This royal political nonsense is not important right now." He said, his tone causing Rict'thiel to go stiff as a board.

"I- I am sorry my lo- Varian." Rict managed to stammer through his sweats. Varian smiled lightly and opened his mouth to say something when the doors to the chamber burst open. Varian, turned around, pulling out both his swords. The warden simply vanished. Rict was the slowest to react, and the only thing he could do was begin chanting the cantrip of a spell. He was nearly at the end when he noticed Varian's stance become relaxed.

"Aye, Wrynn ye damned dog, is this how ye treat ye're allies. We come to ye're summons and… by Moradin's beard, ye've already started." Said a regally dressed dwarf he came in beside another one, dressed in traveler's attire. The second dwarf had his face in his palm and his hand on the other ones shoulder. The warden came in behind the two, placing a pair of umbra crescents under his cloak.

"I'm sorry Varian, me brother here got impatient when the tram broke down. Decided to open the tribute early." He said, grinning slightly. From Rict's view, it looked like the king was smiling.

"Pfft, ain't nothing to be lost from it. We brought plenty o' ale." As if on cue, three dwarves came in, each carrying a case of dwarven liquor. As the second dwarf said, one of the cases was open, and six of the twelve bottles were empty.

Varian turned back to the table and crossed out the names Brann and Magni. While he was doing this, Rict noted the warden walking back to the table, his hips swaying slightly. Perhaps he was injured. Rict felt the heat in his hands and he turned to Varian.

"Wrynn, I'm sorry, but I need to be excused for a moment." He said, managing not to stammer this time. While he said it he subconsciously looked at his hands. Varian regarded him for a moment and then nodded.

"Go take care of it. The stairwell over there leads to the servant quarters. Go find the cook, I'm sure he could use it."

Rict nodded, and the two dwarves looked at him curiously, while the warden looked away, his body shivering. The draenei looked sympathetic, and Varian was beginning to look annoyed.

"Go elf, before you can't contain it any longer."

Rict snapped his head, and began to move towards the door. He opened it and began down the stairs, hearing a faint, "Bloody spell casters," in a distinct dwarven accent. He continued down the stairs, removing the gloves on his hands as he went, pocketing them as he came down to the kitchen.

Almost immediately, a giant pot confronted him. A woman was on the other end, yelping in pain, and Rict subconsciously took a step forward to help her. This turned out to be the wrong decision, as she over balanced and moved towards him. Their impact sent her flying towards the main fire pit, the liquid contents of her pot leading the way.

Acting as quickly as he could, Rict grabbed the woman's waist, and pulled her away from the pit. The two went tumbling into a stack of flour, Rict's hair being dusted to a silvery yellowish sheen. They coughed away the flour, and Rict opened his eyes to see the woman peering down at him.

She wasn't very pretty, and appeared rather portly and stout. If she was perhaps a foot shorter she could have passed for a dwarf, but she had the distinct freckles of a human. The sleeves of her shirt were burnt slightly, but she had her arm out to lift him up. He smiled at her, but used his own arms to lift himself, being sure to use the stones and not the flour sacks. When he stood up, you could see black hand marks on the floor.

"I'm sorry. I was carrying the pot and I didn't see you and I slipped and I crashed into you and… Are you hurt?" She asked moving closer to see if he had any bruises. Rict shook his head and looked to the ground where the liquid from the pot, some kind of fish stew, had extinguished the main fire and most of the subsequent additional flames linked to the oven.

"No, no I'm fine. It's no trouble, really. I was just coming down to see the cook, and you looked like you needed help." He said, scratching his head, and wincing in the process. Her reaction wasn't what he expected. She broke down and began to cry, sobbing about being unable to do anything right. Rict opened his mouth to console her when someone screamed.

"Who the fuck spilled all of this shit onto the fire! I swear by the light Check, if this was you I'm going to flay you alive." A tall auburn haired man in an apron yelled. He turned to regard Rict'thiel, "You! Elf! What the hell are you doing down here. I didn't call for any new cook hands. Did you do this?" He Shouted, pointing at the smoldering fishy mess.

The young woman next to him stopped crying and spoke up suddenly, "No Venst, it was me. I was trying to carry the pot to the prep area when I lost my balance. He was trying to help me, but we went tumbling into the fire instead." She said through soaked eyes. She began to cry again, and Rict expected her to be yelled at again, but the expression on the cook's face changed to a softer one.

The cook, Venst, came over and helped the girl up. He smiled as he pat the flour out her hair, and she hugged him lightly. "There, there Melida, you're still new at this. Nothing to worry about, we'll get this cleaned up." He raised his head and looked crossly at Rict. He then turned to a boy and said, " Check, go tell the king's attendant that dinner will be served slightly later then usual. Brith, go get a mop. Annelyse, bring some water pails with Francis. Come on people."

Melida let go of her father, and it was then that Rict realized she wasn't a woman at all, but a teenager. She looked only roughly fourteen years old, and she was wearing an oversized apron and shirt. "I'm sorry dad, I'll go get a mop too." She said pulling away from him.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. "No honey, the others will do that. I need your help with something right now." He turned to Rict. "You said that you had business with me." He said regarding the elf, his head cocked slightly. Rict responded by nodding his head.

"Uh, Varian, ah, King Wrynn sent me down to help you. I, I cast a fire spell that I wasn't able to use, and well," He lifted his hands to show them, now glowing hot, "He thinks you might be able to put a little flame to use."

Venst grinned and said, "Damned elf, you wouldn't have been useful two minutes ago, but it seems you've made yourself a little work. You help us cook this meal and I'll forgive you, and claim the delay of the king's meal as my own responsibility." He said turning around. He walked towards a door near the back of the kitchen, and came back with eight logs in his burly arms.

"Well," he said, "Get lighting!" He turned to his daughter and said, "I need to speak with the attendant, make sure he doesn't blow anything up."

Rict smiled and looked at her soothingly. "I won't," he promised, and turned back to the cook. "Maybe you'd like to wait until there are a few more logs… and that the stew is cleaned."

"Mhh, you're right. Melida, take him to the back and have him help you make a new stew. When this is cleaned up, come light it okay elf?" he said, taking one last look at the pair of them before disappearing up the stairs.

Melida turned to Rict and smiled. She tugged a little on his shirt as she led him to the back of the kitchen. When they reached the back she went under a counter and pulled out two pots. She then moved to the back room and returned with a log in each arm.

She filled each pot with water, and then turned to Rict'thiel. "Can you light the logs so we can get this boiling?" She said, turning to go get some vegetables. Rict regarded her for a second then said.

"I have a better idea." And he placed his hands on the side of the pots. The flushed expression in his face diminished slightly, and the side of the pot began to glow slightly. The water began to boil immediately. He grinned as he turned to see a rather peeved Melida returning with leeks and onions in one arm and gutted salmon in the other.

She looked into the pot, then turned and grabbed a pair of mitts. She picked up the first pot and proceeded to dump the contents into the drain by the wall. She then re-filled the pot and placed it back on top of the burner.

"You have to light the logs, because you can't add the vegetables to boiling water. If you do, the flavor doesn't come out, and the broth is pretty tasteless. My dad says this is why he doesn't like high elves." She said before grabbing the second pot. Dumping it, she returned with it refilled. "He says you guys don't think anyone else's way of doing things is the right way."

"I see…" Rict said, slightly embarrassed and angry. Who was she to insult him for trying to come up with a better way of doing things! He was about to say something when she turned back to him and smiled.

"Oh well, that's just him. I think it's really cool that you can make water boil instantly. Hehe, I bet you have a lot of fun at the public bath." She said, before she grabbed a knife and began cutting the leeks. The baths she was referring to were located in the trade district of Stormwind, and were run by a pair of goblins, the Peekoboils. Rict had never been there in his short stay, but he had heard of it many times.

"Oh, here comes brother." She said, looking over her shoulder to spot a wheat haired boy with freckles approaching them. Rict lit both logs before turning to regard the youth approaching them.

"Hey, uh, the fire pit is clear and stocked with wood. You can light it with your magic tricks now." He snorted, before he turned away. Melida stuck her tongue out at him, and then turned to Rict. "Check can be a jerk sometimes. Just ignore him. Or…" She said with a mischievous grin, "You could set him on fire."

Rict smiled, but shook his head. He then began to walk towards the fire pit. He reached the halfway point when Melida turned back from her vegetables and said, "Hey mister elf, I don't know your name yet."

Rict grinned at her and said it was Rict'thiel. She said it a few times to herself before responding, "That's a pretty name. It sounds like a girls." She said laughing through tears as she cut the onions now.

"Hey miss elf, we're waiting over here for this fire. Come on!" Check yelled from across the kitchen. Rict looked at him for a moment, then, swallowing his anger, he moved to the fireplace. "You are going to want to step back." Rict said to the staff gathered around the pit. They all shuffled away, all except Check, who grinned and said, "Just light it."

Rict sighed, nodded, and snapped his fingers. Flames burst out from them, engulfing the logs pilled into the pit, and filling the entire kiln with a huge roar of flame. The kitchen staff balked away from the blast and shielded their eyes from the flames. Even Rict'thiel had to shut his eyes from the bright light and heat. Finally the burst of flame stopped, and the pit was roaring as the others had never seen it before. But that wasn't the only thing. Check's apron had caught fire.

Check yelled and began swatting away at the fire. It finally took Melida's knife to cut it of him, and then it was thrown onto the logs. Finally he calmed down, and he turned to look at Rict.

"Well elf, it seems you guys aren't all talk. Good job. But don't make it so damn big next time." He said before going off back to other end of the kitchen. Melida gave Rict a hug, and he grinned slightly, rubbing the back of his head. His hand came back white, and it was only then that he realized that his hair was still covered in flour. He shook his hair out, and coughed as the flour got into his nose and eyes.

Blinking away his tears, he opened his eyes to see one of the guards standing in front of him. The guard looked at him, and said, "King Varian Wrynn requests your presence again. Please come with me."

Rict blinked a second, and then realized that he was just supposed to come downstairs and get rid of his spell, not cook a royal dinner. He grinned to himself and felt Melida pushing him in the back.

"Go on, go talk to Andy's dad. I'll see you when we serve dinner." She said smiling at him. She pushed him again, and he walked back up the stairs. He coughed lightly, and noticed the guard had begun to talk to one of the cooking staff. He continued up the stairs, fixing his shirt and robe. He opened the door, and was greeted by an audience of the most powerful leaders of the Alliance.

Jaina shrieked, and the next thing Rict'thiel knew, there was an icebolt flying directly for his face. Rict'thiel's jaw fell open slightly, and he raised his arm to absorb part of the spell. He had never experienced the cold of a frost bolt first hand, but he'd had read about it in the castle's library. He dodged to the side, hoping to avoid part of it, and glimpsed the summoning of a water elemental. He moved faster, hoping to avoid more of the initial spell.

It didn't matter. Rict struck the ground hard, and shut his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, he saw the Warden standing over him, his cloak upraised about his person, the frost bolt completely absorbed in its cloth. Rict eye turned to the Elemental towering over both of them. It raised its arms, preparing to bring its bulk down upon both of them.

Rict quickly began the cantrip of a spell, but he didn't even get past the first word. In an instant, the Warden's arm shot out, and the two bracers of the elemental split in half. Fifteen feet away, a pair of knives was buried into the wall. The elemental dissipated, but Jaina began to summon another one, before she was tackled by Varian.

"Jaina! Jaina calm down, its not him!" He said, pushing her staff from her arms and pinning her to the ground. The dwarves Rict had noted earlier were crowded around the two on the floor, and the Warden has holding his arm, shivering again. Rict got to his feet, steadying himself against the wall. He noticed that the Warden's shivering was getting worse, and he removed the sure-coat to his robe, offering it to the man. He received an ice-cold glare in return as the man teleported back to his seat. He held his right arm in his left, Rict noted, and it seemed to leather was torn open.

Jaina was struggling against Varian, tears streaming from her eyes. "Like hell he isn't! Get off me! I'll not let him fool us again!" She cried, pushing against him. For all her spell casting might, she couldn't even begin to dislodge the king. Varian silenced her with the following sentence.

"Calm down, and check for yourself then." He said quietly. He slowly rose up from on top of her, and she regained her composure. Lifting herself, and nursing a pair of bruises upon her forearms, she turned sharply towards Rict after making a grab for her staff, and shot a wave of green light at him. Rict dove out of the way. He went flying into a corner, and was hit by a second wave of green light. This time he was un-able to avoid it.

A moment later, Jaina collapsed back onto the ground. She sat there, tears streaming down her face, her arms slumping into her lap and staff going limp in her hands. Rict leaned against the wall and everyone was quiet as she simply broke down and cried for several minutes.

Finally Varian knelt down beside her and helped her up. She took his arm and they moved to her seat at the table, and she took her place. She stared at Rict through glazed eyes, while Varian came over to him and ushered him to his own seat. Varian guided him to chair next to his own. Jaina sat across from him.

There was another moment of silence before Varian finally spoke up again.

"Look at his eyes Jaina. Do you see any green? He is high born. He is not that man." Varian said quietly. "Your spell proves it as well doesn't it?" He said after another moment. Jaina nodded without speaking, looking away from Rict. It became very quiet again for another few minutes.

After the silence had been kept from five minutes, it was interrupted by Magni's slurred voice. "By the gods Varian, ye didn't need us dwarves to get drunk t'eh ruin ye're party! Ye durned humans and elves seem to do a fine good job of that yerselves."

The second dwarf put his face in his palms, but Varian simply laughed, "Yes, I'm sorry about that. We all lose our composure once in a while." He turned his attention to Jaina, who was looking away and biting her finger. "Even you miss Proudmoore. Do not doubt that I understand your reaction."

Jaina looked at him for a moment, and then wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and Rict noted the grateful expression in her eyes. She stood up again and said, "I need to excused for a moment. I shall be back in several minutes." And with that she left through the door to the said of the hall. Her dress flowed behind her as the doors shut. The draenei turned towards Varian and nodded his assent.

"She tries far to much for a child of her age. She is too young to have such responsibilities. It is unfortunate that she is not older, that she did not have as much time to reflect upon all that has occurred to her." He said slowly. Varian nodded, smiling warmly as a father would. He turned to Rict'thiel.

"Please, don't be dissuaded by lady Jaina's reaction. She has been through… much. I'm sure you will understand why, if she ever tells us why she reacted in that way." He said warmly to Rict, who felt himself calm considerably as the king spoke. Finally, he nodded, and turned his attention to the other guests at the table.

"I understand my lord, and I do not mean to call your judgment into question, but why am I here?" He said, finally turning back to Varian. Varian looked cross for a moment, and then got to his feet and walked over to the table he was at previously. He picked up the map off of the table, and returned with it.

He placed it upon the table that everyone was seated around. There was a large icon on the right side of the map that was highlight in black ink. Varian paused for a slight moment, and then crossed out another icon near the middle of the map. Finally, he raised himself and turned towards the rest.

"Two matters have been brought to my attention. Firstly, our base at Valgarde has been fully secured, and the Vrykul there have been expelled from the surrounding area. In addition to this, the forsaken of Vengeance Landing have expanded their territory to match out gains at the base of Utgarde keep. Currently they are capable of bombarding our ships to a small extent as they enter and leave the cove." He slowly turned to the others and opened his mouth to continue when the doors opposite him opened and Jaina rejoined the others at the table.

She looked much better then she did before she left. Her hair was back in place, and her eyes were completely dry. She sat down in her seat, and turned to Varian. Varian looked at the others and continued talking.

"I've already briefed Jaina with this. The other piece of information that we've acquired is that Bolvar is… Bolvar is dead. The forsaken of that damned royal apothecary entrenched in Northrend turned on both the horde and the alliance at the wrath gate. Stormwind led an incursion into the city of Lordaron, hoping to remove the Forsaken faction from that of the Horde. We failed, and," He turned to Jaina, "Lady Jaina managed to save me and many others from myself."

Jaina quietly nodded to herself, and Rict noted that she seemed much calmer then she had before. He also noted that she was looking at everyone except him. He turned to Varian, who continued talking.

"I've called this meeting to tell you that. That, and that the Alliance Vanguard will be pulling its forces away from the area surrounding Utgarde. While most of the Vrykul in this are have been routed, no amount of siege pressure will be able to dislodge them from their fortress right now." He said slowly. Finally, he turned his gaze upon Rict.

The regally dressed dwarf snorted, but nodded.

"Instead, we will be sending a strike force into the Keep to remove its leaders and upper echelon of warriors. My friend Rict'thiel here, Brann, and the emissary from Darnassus will be this strike team." He said quietly. Rict backed away in his chair. He had never openly aggressed another person or creature before. He could only remember fighting once, and that was to protect himself from a pair of cutthroats in the trade district of Stormwind.

Brann, the dwarf with the hat, nodded his head. "Them Vrykul have some tablets I'm meaning to examine. Hopefully they'll be able to help me decipher some runes I captured in that durned Ulduar." He said. His brother was completely tanked in his chair, but even he noted the steel to Brann's gaze and voice. The dwarf adjusted his seat, causing the chair to grind.

Varian's gaze turned to the Warden, who simply nodded his assent. Finally, he turned to Rict'thiel, who was opening his mouth to protest.

"My lord, I do not know how to fight. I can barely manage to control the fire spells I am able to cast properly." He said quickly, sending an imploring look to the king. Varian returned his gaze with one of grim determination.

"Rict'thiel. Please, do no doubt yourself right now. I have complete faith in what I am asking you to do. Believe me, I would not send you if I did not find you capable." He said, and the Rict heard the Warden snort. "You are necessary for this. I am not asking you this as your king, I'm asking this as your friend. I saved your life once, and I ask that you repay me this one favor. After that, you will be free from whatever obligations you might feel towards me."

Rict was silenced for a moment. He knew that the King had been the one to find him, and that it was his clerics and medics who had kept him from succumbing to his burns. Varian had been the one, who had helped him figure out why he was where he was when he woke up after that fire, and he had been the one who had granted Rict access to the castle libraries in order to pacify himself while he was bed ridden.

Rict thought this over for a moment, and finally turned to the King and nodded. The thought of going into an enemy keep terrified him, but he knew that Varian needed him this moment. He did not understand why. He did not care to understand. It was terrifying, and yet he felt as if some hole in him had been filled by this request. He was needed.

There was one thought that terrified him even more then Varian's request though, but Varian did away with this right away. Those cutthroats had been incinerated in seconds. "I do not see you as a weapon Rict'thiel. If you think you can not do this, then please, tell me this right now." The king said, his eyes not turning from Rict's.

Rict swallowed slowly, and finally said, "If I am needed my lord, then I shall go. Believe me when I tell you that I'm terrified, but I will go."

"Bah, the durned elf sounds like a woman. Get ye're blasted arse in there and kill yerself some durned Vrykul!" The Dwarven king said after Rict had finished talking, and that brought a wave of laughter from everyone at the table, excluding the warden who sat impassively, nursing his arm.

"Yes, I believe our dwarven friends have just about summed it up perfectly," Varian, said. He looked towards the warden and said, "Believe me, you will be with the best warden the Alliance has ever seen, and the famous Brann Bronzebeard beside." He said with a look of pride.

While this got no reaction from the warden, Brann blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "Don't know about famous, but I'll be glad t'eh take any title from the king of Stormwind." He said, grinning to himself. Varian nodded, and turned to Jaina. She looked slightly out of it, but she snapped back when everyone began to stare at her.

"How soon can you prepare a portal to Valgarde Jaina?" Varian said, his arms rising as the servants began to bring food out to the table. Rict noticed Melida carrying a large pot of stew, and she seemed to be slipping again. This time he rose swifter then before and helped her carry it to the table. He helped her place it in the middle, and she then curtsied him and scurried back down the flight of stairs the servants seemed to be flowing out of. She waved at him before vanishing into the shadows.

"Immediately if need be." Jaina replied after the servant pouring the stew for her moved away. Rict noticed Check bringing up a roast pig with the help of another servant. He also noticed his lack of apron, or eyebrows for that matter. Rict'thiel sniggered a little, and began to relax as the conversation began to turn towards matters that no longer concerned him.

----------oOo----------

Rict relaxed contented, and even enjoyed a touch of smug satisfaction that the stew he'd helped Melida with was the favored dish of the evening. Brann was also now slightly tipsy, and he was engaged in a conversation with the draenei ambassador about harpies and their mating habits.

"They do it in the air don't ye know." He said between swigs of the dwarven liquor. Rict'thiel quietly smiled to himself, and noticed that the warden hadn't even touched his food. He hadn't said a word to anyone in fact. He simply sat there, staring off into the distance of the room, his eye glimmering behind his helmet. Rict couldn't help noticing a slightly tormented look in those eyes. Perhaps he wasn't one for social gatherings, which made sense. He was also still nursing his arm.

Varian rose from seat his short while later, and called for some guards to help escort the drunken king home. Brann rose as well, and went from the room. Jaina and the ambassador rose next, the ambassador taking his leave. That left Rict'thiel at the table, along with the warden. Varian, turned to Rict and said,

"You're things were packed while we ate. I know this is sudden, but it is best if we send you and the others immediately." As if on cue, a human came in carting Rict's few possessions, most of which he'd received from Wrynn himself. His eyes darted to Jaina, as her hands flashed, and she summoned a bundle of cloth to her hands. She turned to Rict, and after a moment, said,

"I- I want you to take this. If you should ever find whom it belongs to, I ask that you return it. Tell him I'm sorry, but it can never be." She said, a single tear sliding down her face. "Before you find him though, I ask that you might wear it. I bears a few enchantments that might prove useful to you when you encounter the Vrykul." She said.

Varian placed a hand on her shoulder, and Rict'thiel moved forward to take it. She gave the clothes to Rict, who then placed them upon the trunk his possessions were packed inside. He turned to Jaina.

"Thank you my lady. I- I shall try to find the owner of these if I ever come across his path. Is, well, is there anyway I'll be able to identify him?" He said after he stepped away. The warden snorted again, and rose from his chair.

"You'll know when you see him." Was all Jaina said. At the same moment, Brann entered the room with a backpack. In his arms he carried an ornate gun, and on his belt was a bag of pre-packaged ammunition.

"Well then Wrynn, let's get this damn portal business done with." He said, turning to the king and sorceress. Jaina nodded, and motioned the three to a cleared area of ground in the center on the room.

Rict, Brann and the Warden formed a rough triangle, and Jaina's arms went into quick work, her voice going over the cantrips of a spell. Her hands began to glow blue, and an orb of light began to grow between the four of them as she reached the crescendo of the spell. Suddenly.

Suddenly, she was sent flying as the spell backfired. Varian was fast enough to catch her, but the other three weren't so lucky. Brann went toppling into the table, sending the contents of it into the air. Rict'thiel went flying back into the wall, and felt something hard and metallic smash against his ribs. His eyes were shut by the impact.

He opened them, and noticed the hard metal to be the Warden's helmet. It was warm in his hands, and he slowly rose from his position. His eyes first registered Brann, completely covered in food from his crash into the table. Jaina was being supported by Varian, rubbing her head.

"I told you he wasn't him." Varian said quietly, but Rict'thiel's ears managed to catch it anyway. Jaina nodded, and rose to her feet. Rict'thiel followed suit, and began to walk towards the other two, the helmet in hand, when something grabbed his shoulder. He turned his head to meet eyes with a sharply beautiful night elf. Her eyes glistened with a look of distant torment, and she spoke.

"My helmet." Was all she said, and all she needed to say for Rict'thiel to hand her back the helmet in his hands. She placed it on her head and walked back to the group. Rict noticed that the swaying of her hips wasn't the same as that of injury. He shook his head and joined the rest.

Jaina looked at him, and smiled warmly. She looked at him and said, "I guess you have never been to Northrend." She said, fixing her robe. " I can't make a portal if you haven't been there before." And with that, she turned and Varian, patted him on the shoulder, and stepped back slightly.

"It seems our hopes of removing the Vrykul threat will have to be put on hold for a period of time." Varian said, turning to Rict. He pulled the elf closer to him with a hand, and gave him a nice shake. "You're just nothing but problems for me aren't you?" he laughed. Rict smiled nervously, and broke away from his grip.

"Anyway, I guess there's nothing to do but wait for the next boat to leave from here to Valgarde." He said. "If memory serves me well, then the next one leaves in three days."

Ha said with a laugh. Brann coughed at this.

"To hell with that. I've been t'eh that blasted frozen rock already. Send me now, and I'll see what I can do while I wait for this one." He said, pointing at Rict. Varian nodded, and stepped away as Jaina opened another portal. When it finished, Brann stepped through and faded from sight. Jaina wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, and turned to look at the warden. Varian said,

"The Warden will be accompanying Rict'thiel by boat. I don't want him traveling alone. Its not that I doubt you, it's just that I want you getting there as fast as possible." He said. The Warden nodded, and vanished. She left a faint outline of herself before diminishing completely from sight.

Varian turned to Rict and said, "Relax Rict, you're in capable hands with Maiev Shadowsong." He said. "She'll keep you safe and on the straight and narrow until you reach Valgarde." He said.

Rict nodded, and bowed. Finally, Varian smiled." Well, I believe that there's been enough excitement for one evening. You should return home and get some sleep. I'll have some new books sent to you, and you'll have your possessions carted back." He said, patting the elf's shoulder. Rict smiled, and said,

"Thank you my lord."

"Varian" Varian said with a look of mock anger on his face.

"Varian," the elf conceded, smiling and breaking away from the king's grip. "If you should need me again, please do no hesitate to ask me."

Varian smiled, nodded his head and said, "I believe you've already done what I need most."

And with that, Rict'thiel took his leave from the castle. He walked out of the room with the bundle from Jaina in his hands. Walking out of the castle and into the night's cool air, Rict relaxed slightly. The Warden's name sounded familiar for some faint reason. Perhaps she was mentioned in one of the texts he'd been reading. Anyway, he continued off into the night, heading for the direction of his home.

Varian turned to Jaina and said, "I swear, there's something I'm for getting to tell that one…" Jaina simply shrugged, and began teleporting herself home.

Rict'thiel began to whistle, and found he was horrible, so he simply began to hum a melody he couldn't recognize. He felt contented, if nervous, as he made his way home.

He could have sworn the shadows were flitting about more then usual.


	3. Shivers, Sheets and Showers

Rict'thiel casually made the final turn home, rounding the bend, and enjoying the warm glimmer coming off one of the street lamps. The lamp lighter must have just gone by, because this flame burned brighter then most, and only seemed to grow brighter as he approached. He stretched his arms and bounced around the turn, trying to make sense of this evening's happenings when a sight jarred him from his thoughts.

Directly in front of him, blocking off access to his home stood a band of men. Most of them carried rusty blades, with the occasional axe between them. They stood there, blocking his way, brandishing their weapons in a menacing manner. Rict backed away as he saw them, and turned his head, hoping for a guard to walk nearby. He had no such luck.

"There's the one that killed mah boys Vinny and Nicky! Kill 'im!" He heard one of the men shout, and they began to run towards him in an un-organized mess. Rict, terrified, turned and ran straight into a wall. Fortunately, he didn't run too hard, as he managed to push himself away, and out of the range of a swinging knife, its rusty edge drawing sparks off the stones of the wall his head has just been against.

Rict tumbled towards the side of the river, his bundle of clothes falling from his grasp and into the cold water. He didn't have time to pause to look as they sunk into its depths, as he launched himself away from a flying knife, which he felt graze his thigh. The cut wasn't deep, but it drew a lot of blood. A sharp feeling of heat began to grow in his thigh.

Gasping in pain from the wound in his leg, Rict managed to regain his balance, and began to cast a fireball. He hadn't cast half the spell before he was taken in the face with a right hook from the biggest of all the men. Before he could react, he took another fist in the gut, and stumbled backwards, falling onto his back.

His cried out in renewed pain as he clutched his stomach, and received a knee to the face for lowering his arms. He flew backwards, crashing down near a wall opposite his home. He raised his head, feeling the warm stream of blood flow from his nose, and his eyes locked with those of the man who kicked him. His eyes went wide, as he'd seen the man that same day, working on building a home near the dwarven district of the city. The man kneeled down, and grabbed Rict by the collar, pulling him up to his face.

"Got any last words before I gut ye'h alive?" He said, his breath stinking of alcohol. His teeth had a slight discoloration, and his face was flushed with rage. Rict grabbed weakly at the man's shirt, nodding and opening his mouth. The man shook him." Let's have em then!"

"Roth," He managed to gurgle through the blood. The man turned to the others and laughed. They laughed along with him, and he turned his face back to Rict's. He was greeted by a wave of flame as fire began to sprout out of Rict'thiel's hands. Rict couldn't even keep his eyes open, but he felt the grip loosen, and himself falling to the ground. He heard the screams of dying men, and he felt himself shudder involuntarily. He turned over and retched beside himself. Then, exhaustion grasped him completely, and he collapsed, part of his hair falling into his own sick. He managed to open his eyes for a short moment, and was greeted by a bright starry night, and the smoldering glow of dying flames.

He heard the click of metal boots, and then knew no more.

----------oOo----------

Pain. He felt pain. It was dull at first, but it began to slowly grow, coming to the center of his mind, until he finally gasped and lurched forward. His eyes snapped open, and Rict looked around the room he was in. Things didn't register at first, but they slowly came into focus as he rubbed his eyes. Propping his head back against him, he came to realize two things.

One, he was in his own room, in his own bed. The covers were soaked in sweat and a little blood. He was also bandaged. He moved to his legs to adjust his posture and screamed out in pain. He lifted his covers slowly and saw a rip in his boxers, and blood trickling slowly from it. He flopped back and noticed something else.

Sitting directly opposite of him was a night elf. She was turned away from him, rummaging through something on the floor. Piled in the corner of the room appeared to be a stack of metal armor, including a very familiar helmet. The night elf in front of him wore form fitting leather pants, along with a leather chest piece, with a dark green shirt over top. She lifted her head and her purple tinted silver hair fell around her face.

"You're awake." She said, standing up and walking over to him. He nodded quietly, trying to place where he'd seen her before. She walked over to his end of the bed, holding a pair of silver sticks in her hand. She sat back down on another stool and pulled away the covers over him. He shivered and reached for them, but she put out a surprisingly strong hand and stopped him.

"Stop moving." She said. He listened, too terrified to do anything but. She reached for his boxers and pulled them down, bringing the metal sticks to bear. This time Rict'thiel gasped and shoved her hands away.

"What- what the hell are you doing?" he gasped through renewed pain in his leg. He moved his hands down to cover his groin, and she simply glared at him. Slowly, she brought the sticks to bear again, and placed them into the wound in his thigh. He screamed in agony and jerked, sending her hand flying away from his leg again. He said again, "What the hell are you-"

"Do you wish to die?" She said simply, her eyes locked in an intense stare with his own frightened ones. She brought the silver sticks to her face, and sat back in her chair, obviously expecting an answer.

"W-what?" Was all she got in return. She turned, and looked away from him.

"You were stabbed. The knife's handle broke off. You have a rusty piece of metal in your leg, and are likely being poisoned right now." She said, turning back to him, and locking eyes with his again. "I'll say it once more. Do you wish to die?"

"I- I don-" He swallowed slowly, "No."

"Then hold still." She said, bringing the sticks to bear one final time. Rict noticed with passing interest that they were surgical tweezers. This fled his mind however; as he cried out in pain once more as the tweezers went in. He grabbed tightly at the sheet still near him, and his knuckles went white.

After what seemed like forever, the night elf's hand jerked free, the tweezers holding a rusty knife tip. Blood was flowing from the wound again, but Rict made no notice. His mind had long since fogged over, his eyes shutting closed, his body knocked out cold.

----------oOo----------

Rict felt a slight throbbing in his forehead. It lasted for a moment, and then came back. Then went away, and then came back. Opening his eyes, he saw Melida sitting over his bed, poking his forehead. He blinked once before brushing her hand away. He adjusted himself, and noted the lack of pain. He pushed himself so he was sitting back against the head of his bed, and turned towards her.

"Hey sleepy head." She said, sitting back on the stool, smiling. She kicked her legs contentedly, nodding her head before reaching for something out of his line of vision. He closed his eyes slowly, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. He opened them again, and was greeted with a spoonful of a very spicy smelling broth. He opened his mouth compliantly, and was shocked at the striking taste of the meal. And despite its strong flavor, it had a calming effect on him.

"Melida, what are you doing here?" He asked he swallowed the food. He turned towards her, and she simply smiled and filled another spoonful of broth.

"Why, giving you my mother's special soup of course. I hope you don't mind, I used some of your food." She said, bringing another spoon to his face. He accepted it easily enough, and swallowed. She moved to fill another spoon, but Rict put out a hand to stop her.

"No, I mean what are you doing _here_?Where are your parents?" He said, coughing a little at the food.

She looked at him for a moment, then cast her eyes to the ground. She sniffed, then looked back up to Rict, and her could have sworn there were tears forming behind her hazel eyes.

"I overheard Andy's dad talking to a night elf about you. They said you had been hurt, so I followed Mr. Wrynn when he came to visit you." She said, casting her eyes to the ground. She slowly got up, and placed the bowl on his bead side dresser. "I- I'm sorry. I'll go." She said, turning towards the door.

Rict leaned forward in his bed, reaching out and grabbing her hand. She turned around, tears swelling at her eyes. "I'm not mad. I'm just worried that your parents don't know where you are." He said, trying his best to look comforting. She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"Dad knows where I am silly. Where do you think I got the spices?" She said before giggling a little and sitting back down. Rict smiled and laughed too.

"I guess I never though of that." He said, smiling and closing his eyes, resting his head back against the backboard of the bed. "Wait. You said Varian was here?" He said, snapping his eyes open. He shuffled in his sheets, and leaned forward slightly.

Melida nodded, "Yeah, Andy's dad was here about an hour ago. He was talking with some night elf. She said she was staying with you." She said, leaning forward, then looking at him very slyly, "Is she your… Girlfriend?" She giggled, and fell back into her chair, obviously expecting an answer.

Rict'thiel's was not really what she wanted. He looked at her, and then shook his head. "I don't even know who she is. I just, woke up, and she was here." He said, starring ahead through the window, letting his eyes adjust to the bright light streaming through. He turned to her, "Do you know where she is now?"

He received a spoonful of broth as opposed to an answer. When she finished, Melida shook her head, "Nope, she left with Mr. Wrynn. I think they might have gone to the castle." She said, spooning some more of the broth. Rict'thiel listened, and shifted n his bed, trying to get up. A searing pain shot up his leg, and he gasped, falling back into his spot.

He turned to her suddenly, and asked, "How long has it been since I helped you at the castle?" He asked, and she could tell the sense of urgency in his voice. He shifted uncomfortably, obviously becoming very worried.

"Yesterday." She said, bringing the spoon to his face again. Rict'thiel felt himself relax, and accepted the food. The spicy flavor helped him calm down even further, and he suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. His eyes shut slowly, and he could see Melida putting the bowl down before the last rays on light slid away from his eyelids.

----------oOo----------

He gasped, waking roughly from his sleep, and cringing as another bolt of lightning flashed in front of his window. He gasped again, and leaned back against the backboard of his bed, and slowly regained his breath.

After several minutes, he managed to turn to the side of the bed, and stand up. A slight throbbing pain shot up his leg, but he managed to ignore it. He staggered over to his open window, falling more then once against the wall on his left. Lightning flashed by the window again, and thunder shook through his ears, causing him to fall back once more.

Eventually, he did reach the window. He reached forward, and made to grab at the shutter rod. However, doing so caused him to freeze in his tracks. On his doorsteps, or more off, beside his doorstep, lay the figure of a night elf. Rict's eyes went wide, and pulled away, leaving the window shutters open. He staggered to the door, and fumbled with the handle, finally managing to pry it open.

What had been a standard sounding rain from inside, despite the open window, turned into a massive downpour. He trudged out into the downpour, and crouched beside the prone night elf. She had her eyes closed, and had assumed a slight fetal position. Rict could also see she was shivering. He nudged her, and her eyes snapped open immediately.

"What do you want High Born?" She asked, not moving an inch, except for her shivering, which she seemed to be trying to control, and was failing. He stared her dumbfound until finally she propped herself up, and leaned against the side of the house. Rict crouched beside her, and after taking a deep breath, said,

"What are doing? It freezing out here." He said finally, gesturing towards the sky and puddles all about. He received a cold glare instead of an answer. Rict felt surprisingly better then when Melida had visited, and decided to try his luck. He moved in beside her, and sat down against the wall as well. The bandages swathed around his waist were getting wet, but he didn't seem to notice. He turned his head, and matched her cold glare with an equally perplexed one of his own.

They sat there for several minutes, before Rict finally capitulated, and spoke again.

"Listen, I don't know about you, but its damn cold out here. Why are you out here?" He asked again. He turned away from her glare, because he could have sworn she wanted to kill him. Several minutes passed, and he found himself shivering, even more so then her. Finally, he heard her take a deep breath, and she said,

"I do not have your permission to enter your home. As such, I will wait outside until such permission has been granted." She said, staring straight ahead. She shivered again, and Rict noticed that the rain seemed to be hitting her face more then the rest of her. Perhaps it was because of her heads tilt, as she was now looking at where, were there no clouds, one would find the moon.

"Well. I mean, of course you can come inside. I just… I guess… Just come on." He said, getting to his feet. His shirt was soaked through, and his bandages were completely doused in water. He turned to her, and offered a hand. Again, he received no immediate response from her.

Another minute went by, and she finally rose to her feet by herself, and stood beside him. The two said nothing as they entered his home. He stepped in first, and she followed, her purple hued silver hair sticking to her back as she walked past him while he shut the door. Rict turned slightly, and muttered the cantrip of a spell.

"Roth." He finished, and several lamps throughout the three roomed home lit up. The woman in front of him spun around in a flash, adopting a defensive stance, and Rict could have sworn she looked terrified for a split second. However, that second passed, and she regained her composure.

"What?" He said, looking at her. It was then that he noticed that her soaked clothes were clinging to her figure. She had a toned body, with surprisingly generous curves. Her bust rose and fell, easily noticeable through the wet shirt that clung to her chest. Though not large, she was not poorly endowed either. Rict managed to finally tear his eyes away, and realized she had transfixed him with that glare again.

"The- There's a washroom that way." He said, pointing down a corridor. "You can dry off and cha-" He stopped mid-sentence, realizing she had nothing with her but the clothes on her back. Slowly, his eyes traced the room, and he noticed the pile of armor in the corner. His eye began to flit back and forth between the two. It was then that it dawned on him where he'd seen that cold glare before. This woman, and the warden he'd seen a day prior were one in the same.

"I am fine as I am. We are charted to leave here in two days. As such, you should be trying to recover while you still have the comforts of a stable bed." And with that, she walked off in the direction of the washroom. Rict heard a soft click, and the door shut behind her.

He sighed after several minutes, and finally made his way over to the bed. Before getting in, he noted its size, and realized it was a king sized bed. _"Why is that important?" _He thought. The realization took him a moment, and he glanced down to his waist, blushing slightly. Swallowing his discomfort, he finally lifted up his sheet and slid in. It was dark, so he removed his soaked shirt. He shut his eyes, and was surprised at how easily sleep came.

----------oOo----------

Rict stirred in his sleep, and slowly opened his eyes. He felt cold, and glanced over to the window, still open, and noted that it was still dark out. The air in the room had the heady scent of after shower. He remembered the rain, and checked beside him for the night elf, only to find empty sheets. It took a moment to register, as he'd still only just woken up. If the sheets were empty, then that meant the warden had left. He sat up right very quickly, resulting in a sharp twinge of pain in his thigh. He gasped and closed his eyes so as to help deal with the pain.

When he opened his eyes again, he was perplexed. There, on the floor, lay the warden, curled slightly into a ball, shivering once again. At least she appeared dry, and as Rict got out of his bed, he wished he could have said the same for his shirt. He rummaged through his drawer and found only one other, as the rest were still at Varian's castle for some reason. Pulling it over his head, he moved towards the sleeping warden.

He crouched beside her for a moment, and in that split second movement, her hair caught the rays of the moon shining in through his window, and gave off a brilliant luster. For a split second, he felt himself entranced by the sheen of that hair, its supple look, which hinted at it being extremely soft. But, it was only a split second, and he touched her shoulder, shaking it slightly.

She raised her head drowsily, her voice a barely audible whisper as she said, "No more." She stared at him drowsily, then quickly, the focus returned to her eyes, and they shifted to the glare he'd come to expect. "What is it?" She said, propping herself up from the floor, shivering slightly.

"Uh… Well, you don't have to sleep on the floor you know. The bed is far to big for me, or three of me more over. Besides, you look cold." He said, actually giving her his first genuine smile. "I'm not trying to suggest anything, but I don't want you catching a cold. Especially since, "we're charted to leave in two days."" He said, imitating her. He was taking advantage of the fact that she was still drowsy, to have some fun.

She propped herself up, a pensive expression on her face. After half a minute she said, "I mean no disrespect, but I prefer to lie on the floor as opposed to soiled sheets." She said, lying back on her side, curling up slightly as she turned away from him. She shivered slightly, and Rict stood up, slightly disheartened.

"_Soiled..?"_ He thought. He lifted his sheets to go back to bed when he noticed that several areas were stained with blood. He wrinkled his nose, and felt himself shudder at what he'd been sleeping in.

He moved to the edge of the bed, and undressed the cover sheet. The one beneath it was stained as well, but not as much. He removed that one as well, and was relieved to see the mattress unharmed. He knew he had a spare set of sheets, but not a mattress. He dragged the sheets over to a corner.

He made his way to the linen closet in the washroom, and pulled out the two extra sheets, as well as two new blankets, and made his way back to the bed. It took two tries, but he managed to redress the bed. Placing the soiled blanket with the sheets, he climbed back into bed, pulling the two blankets back over himself. He removed his shirt, and settled into the sheets, enjoying their warmth. He felt a twinge of guilt as he looked to the warden on the floor, who was still shivering.

He lay there for half an hour, unable to go back to sleep, until he felt a disturbance in the sheets he was lying between. He felt a cold figure slide in between the blankets beside him. He felt inclined to turn to face her, but resisted, instead taking comfort in the fact that she hadn't shivered once since she crept in.

He finally began to drift off to sleep when he noticed the sun beginning to peak above the horizon. What he didn't notice were a pair of yellow eyes transfixed on him and the night elf that had slowly inched her way closer to the primary source of warmth in the bed.

----------oOo----------

This chapter is dedicated to Sygnya, the only person out of the 400 who've read this story and has taken the time to leave a review. Remember, reviews, no matter how miniscule, give me incentive to write, therefore, you get updates faster. They also provide me with criticism, which allows me to improve my writing style, and thus, the story.

**Anyway, thanks for reading.**

…

**Go away now.**


	4. Amber Eyes

Rict'thiel woke slowly, enjoying the fuzz of a good night's sleep. The warmth of the blankets was kind of stifling, but he relished in it anyway. Something smelt remarkably good, in a sweet way, and he raised his head to see if Melida had snuck back in to surprise him with more food. His eyes opened slowly, and they took a moment to adjust to the silver light. _"Wait… Silver?" _He though for a moment, shutting his eyes from the glare. It was then that he noticed a weight on his chest.

He shifted in the sheets and felt the weight move slightly, but the aroma that he smelt earlier only got stronger. Opening his eyes, he saw the night elf's head resting on his chest, her right arm draped over him. She thrashed lightly in her sleep, and he could feel her wet forehead against his chest. The silver light that had assaulted him before was reflecting of her hair, which he noticed was also the source of the smell.

He slid out of the sheets, and surprisingly didn't wake her up. He reached for his shirt, and pulled it over his head. He felt moisture on his chest, and he realized he had been sweating, and now that he thought about it, the heat for the bed was causing him to pant. He turned, and looked out the window. It appeared to be midday. Still panting lightly, he made his way to the washroom. He opened the door, and then shut it behind himself, turning the bolt and making sure it was locked.

He turned to the sink, and began to draw water from it as he removed his shirt. Indoor plumbing was surprisingly common in Stormwind, however the water was almost always cold. He shut the faucet, and began to fill the wooden bath. _"Cold water eh? Not that bad." _He thought, beginning the cantrip to a weak fire spell. He reached the second last word and stopped. Turning back to the sink, he began to remove the bandages from his thigh, when he noticed a flit of something hairy. He turned towards the linen closet, and received a tower in the face.

"Morning sleepy head." Melida said, crouched by the closet, pulling out another towel. Rict'thiel heart was hammering in his ears as he fell backwards into the cold water of the tub. His head dunked under the water, and he came up coughing and gasping. He shuddered at the freezing water, and felt his arm being tugged at. Melida was trying to help him out of the water. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." She said, pulling him out of the water.

He fell gasping to the carpet in front of the tub, and Melida placed a towel on his head and began towelling his hair. He promptly shoved her away, and she tumbled slightly towards the toilet. She recovered quickly, sitting on the edge of the toilet as she threw the other towel at him. "I'm just trying to help you!" She said, sitting back and glaring at him. She then fell into the bowl of the toilet. It took her a moment to free herself and make sure she wasn't wet. Rict'thiel had moved to help her out, and the remains of his bandage fell away, leaving him nude.

He gasped and pulled up a towel to cover himself. Melida turned a bright shade of red, and looked away. After an awkward minute, she stood up and made for the door. "I'll go." She said, opening the door and walking out. Before the door swung back shut, Rict noticed the night elf standing up, looking at him with a mix of anger and curiosity in her eyes. Then the door slammed shut, and the look was cut off.

Rict moved and re-bolted the door. He fell back onto the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Finally, he gave up trying to make sense of it, and rose to shut off the water. The tub was two thirds full, and Rict placed his hands in the water. He finished the spell, and he felt the water heat up. He climbed in uneasily, and noticed that the wound in his leg was stitched with a silver thread. He also noticed it looked practically healed.

Shaking his head, he lifted himself into the tub. The water was on the verge of uncomfortably warm. With all the heat coming off his body, Rict wondered if he should have even cast the fire spell. He sank deeper into the water, and tried to relax.

-----------oOo----------

Melida walked quickly to the door of Rict'thiel's home. She cleared half the room before she felt a hand on her shoulder. The grip was strong, and she felt a slight shiver run up her spine as she turned around. She looked to the hands owner, a night elf wearing leather pants and a shirt, and tried to keep her eyes from glossing over with tears.

"Who are you child?" The night elf said. She transfixed Melida with a powerful look, the expression on her face pensive. Melida swallowed with a dry throat, and opened her mouth to respond. No words came out at first, but she finally managed to blurt out.

"Who are you?" She clamped her hands to her mouth, and she glanced up. She shook visibly, and felt another set of tears coming.

"Excuse me?" The night elf replied. Melida felt herself being eaten by that iron gaze. She stammered a response, but it didn't even begin to make sense. She took a deep breath after a minute and said, "If you tell me wh-who you are, I'll tell wh-who I am." She said, swallowing and moving away from the night elf's grip. To her complete shock, the night elf's expression softened, and she actually gave a distant smile.

"I am Maiev Shadowsong, commander… former commander of the watchers." She said, smiling gently at the youth before her, placing her hands on her hips and adopting an expectant pose. Melida had never heard that name before. However, the night elf's newfound demeanour helped her relax a little.

"Oh. I'm, well I mean, my name is… I am Melida Hearthglow." She stammered. The night elf smiled again, and moved away from Melida to a pile of armour. She rummaged through it, and Melida walked closer. She was answered by having a bracelet slipped onto her wrist. It was thin, and was made of plain silver. She looked curiously at the night elf, poking the bracelet a few times.

"Um, miss Shadowsing, what's this?" She asked, more over now pointing and poking the bracelet. The night elf looked up, and simply sat back a little, looking at the girl. Melida opened her mouth to ask again, but the warden threw a glove at her face before she could begin to speak. Melida shrieked and braced for the impact, but didn't feel anything. She opened her eyes, and found that she had managed to catch the glove right before it collided with her face. She looked at the glove, then the night elf, and back to the glove.

The night elf stood up, and took the glove from her hand. She stood there, frozen in place, her breath coming heavy in her chest. She turned to the warden, who simply kept walking to the kitchen. After a moment, Melida shook her head, and followed the strange night elf. She entered behind the woman, and noticed that she was scribbling something onto a piece of paper.

"Miss Shadowsong, what is this?" She asked one more time. The night elf looked up from the paper she was writing on, and took a deep breath. She went back to scribbling, and after a few second she said without raising her head, "That belonged to an old friend. Don't lose it, it's yours now."

Melida was confused. She'd only just met this woman, but the warden had given her something precious. She fingered the bracelet again, sighed and walked over to the night elf. "What are you writing?" She asked after glancing at the paper and seeing her name.

"Something you'll need eventually. Don't lose this either." She said, passing the paper to Melida. Melida looked at it for a moment, but couldn't make out most of the handwriting. She could recognize her name, and the church of Stormwind. She quietly pocketed the paper, and felt her stomach rumble. She glanced at the night elf, whose ears had pricked up. The warden made no move though, and simply sat there, starring into space.

Melida felt her stomach grumble a second time, and she turned and left the room, going back into the main chamber of the home.

----------oOo----------

Rict began to rinse the soap out of his hair when he heard a faint knocking on his door. He pulled his dark hair from the water, and the knocking began audibly much louder. He heard a voice, but the water running by his ears drowned most of it out. He shook his head, but the hair stuck to it, so he had to move it away with his hands.

"What?" He called, his voice ringing slightly off the tiles of the washroom. He shifted in the water, getting all the hair clear of his ears.

"Rithy. I'm hungry." He heard Melida call through the door. _"She's still here?" _He thought. "Is it okay if I make dinner?" She called after a moment. Rict was about to tell her to go home, but he remembered the taste of the food she could cook. Wait a second… She called him Rithy? He sighed, and nodded his head.

Realizing that she couldn't see him, he called back. "Sure, just don't burn anything." After a moment he heard her reply, "Obviously… That's your job." He heard her giggle as she moved away from the door. He sank deeper into the water. If only water burnt.

----------oOo----------

Melida walked quickly to the kitchen and began opening drawers, taking inventory of what Rict had to work with. She found the spice drawer she'd seen earlier, and promptly shut it. Besides salt and pepper, all he had was ground garlic and basil. She moved to the cupboard adjacent to it, one she hadn't opened before, and pulled it open. The door came open with difficulty, and she quickly noticed why. It was a bread cupboard, and the door was designed to seal off the air.

Smiling, she reached inside and felt for a good loaf. Of the four in there, only two were still fresh. She pulled the both out, along with the other two. Placing them apart, she moved to the amazing box beside the wood stove. She still couldn't figure out how, but she guessed it was by magic. The box, when opened, was cold on the inside, and it housed meats as well as fruits and vegetables.

She chose some chilled goretusk flanks, and pulled them out along with some celery and carrots. The night elf was still sitting there, starring absent-mindedly into space, when she moved to the log store. She pulled as many as she could carry out, and lumbered her way over to the stove. She squeaked under the weight, and felt it lighten significantly. She turned to see the warden holding several of the logs she had been carrying. The night elf gestured with her head, and Melida took the lead. She tossed them in the stove pit with a heavy shrug, and the warden moved beside her to do the same. With surprising strength, she gently lowered them down to fill in the empty spaces left by Melida's logs.

Melida, panting lightly from the weight of the logs, turned to the night elf. "Um, do you want to help?" She asked, reaching for the tinderbox kept beside the stove. The warden stared at her for a moment, finally nodding, "Yes." Melida smiled at her and passed her a knife. The woman picked it up, but her hold was wrong. Melida reached out to correct it when the night elf spoke.

"I'm fine like this." She said, and she reached for a carrot. She began slicing the vegetable, quietly looking out the window placed above the stove. Melida followed suit with the celery, after she'd lit the fire. Melida chopped quickly, much faster then the warden, but he movements with rough and edgy. The night elf hand never seemed to speed up or slow down as she cut, and the fluidity of it creeped Melida out a little bit.

"How do you do that?" She asked after getting over her initial unease.

"Practice." The warden said to her, and she moved for another carrot. Melida continued cutting, and after a moment asked,

"So, you've been doing this a long time?" She says, beginning to cut her second vegetable as well. She was cutting faster then before, trying to keep in time with the warden's hypnotically fluid speed.

"Longer then you can imagine." The woman said, stopping for a moment and starring out the window. Melida looked her a moment, and a single tear slid down her face. She shook her head and continued cutting, the tear landing on the edge of the counter. It was then that Melida noticed the woman's eyes. She's seen pure Kaldorei eyes before. They always shone with a silver glimmer. There was even a night elf cook hand in the kitchen her father ran.

But this woman's eyes… They seemed different in some way. It took Melida a moment, and she had to glance away as the woman turned her head for a moment. But after the warden's head returned to gazing out the window, Melida recognized the difference. The night elf's eyes had slivers of green spread throughout them. It was very slight, but Melida managed to spot them before the night elf turned to regard her.

Melida gazed guiltily towards the celery, but the night elf's question shocked her.

"Why did you come here this morning?" She asked, turning back to the fourth carrot. Melida, still on her second stalk of celery, looked away a little. She sighed a little, and finally put the knife down and walked from the room. The door shut quietly behind her, but she could feel the night elf's gaze follow her as she made her way for the door.

----------oOo----------

Rict towelled his hair off and began to dry himself. He cast a slight fireball, and controlled it in his palm, using it to dry his hair faster. A few hairs caught fire, and their smell filled his nostrils for a moment. He sputtered lightly, but soon he was done, and he began to redress. Redress…

He'd forgotten his clothing.

He sighed lightly, "Fuck…"

----------oOo----------

Maiev finished cutting all the available carrots, and opened the door to the main entrance. She could see the back of the child as she sat on doorstep of the High elf's home, and she quietly clicked the door closed again. Maiev looked wistfully at the celery stalks, and began to cut them. Four seconds, and eleven stalks later, she placed the knife against the counter, placing all the perfectly cut pieces in the pot along with the carrots.

----------oOo----------

Rict'thiel opened the door to the washroom. He sneaked his way to his drawer, clad in only a towel. Melida had taken his clothing from the washroom before she had left earlier. He managed to spot them in a corner with the rest of his laundry, but was soon back in the safety of his washroom. He pulled the boxers on, then the shirt.

After he was fully dressed, he opened the washroom door, and stepped back into the living room. He slowly made his way to the door as quietly as he could. He paused for a moment, considering his next action. He still didn't know this child very well, but he could see from her shoulders that she was sobbing quietly. He made his way out the door and sat down beside her. She turned up to look at him for a moment, and then went back to her tears. Rict'thiel began to feel uncomfortable, and decided he would break the tension. After he a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Melida…" He said, turning his head and offering her a consoling look. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed, and instead of answering him, she pulled lightly on his shirt and leaned against him. He sighed quietly, but she was beginning to stop crying. After a short while, she had stopped and her head was resting against his shoulder. Finally she raised her head and looked at him. He smiled nervously back at her.

"I- I'm sorry for coming by this morning." She said after a bit. He voiced cracked as she spoke, and Rict could tell she was on the verge of tears again. "I'm ju- I was just so lonely…" She said, and Rict's ears were barely able to hear even that. She turned and began crying into Rict's chest. He felt his shirt getting wet, and yet it didn't seem to bother him. He felt a sharp twinge of concern in his chest. Melida continued her tears for several more moments, until it seemed she'd run out. Rict tentatively placed an arm over her shoulders.

"What do you mean?" He asked, lifting her up slightly so that she was sitting independently again. She looked at him quietly, and Rict could easily tell she was afraid.

"I'm alone right now." She said after a pause. Rict looked at her confused, and she continued. "Check is away at Goldshire. Dad…" She said. She looked away and stared at the ground at her feet. "Dad is visiting Mom." She said finally, sniffing back a tear.

Rict looked at her auburn hair. It had a light sheen to it that he hadn't noticed before. It a strange way, it blended in with her abnormally pale skin as well.

"You never mentioned your mother before." He said. Her body went rigged, and he could see a drop of tears trickled from her jaw to the ground, joining many others. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, sat there, un-moving. Her body stiffer then a board, she eventually turned her head to face Rict. She looked absolutely terrified, and it took his arm on her shoulder again to get her to speak.

"My mother was a night elf." She said. She sniffed again, and sighed. Rict felt that she was expecting a response from him. He shifted lightly, and Melida pulled away. She faced the street and huffed a quiet sigh. "It's fine. I'll go. You don't need to put up with me anymore." She said. She slowly got to her feet, but Rict grabbed hold of her hand.

"What are talking about? I don't want you to go! I just, well I'd never have guessed you had an exotic heritage." He said, smiling. He pulled on her arm lightly, and she began to sit back down. "Besides, what so bad about having a night elfin mother?" She froze mid descent, and her eyes took on a sharpness Rict had only ever seen the warden use.

"What's so bad? What is so bad!?!" She yelled, pulling away from him. Her glare was withering, and Rict felt himself shrink away. He didn't understand what he did wrong, but she answered that for him. "Tell me, have you ever been openly ridiculed where ever you go?" She said. Her face began to flush with anger, and she placed a foot aggressively towards him.

"Have you ever tried to hide something so hard, and fail. Wherever I go, they can tell by the colour of my hair or skin. Why do you think I wear my hair like this?" She yelled. Her angered expression was slowly slipping away. She moved away part of her auburn hair, and Rict'thiel glimpsed her ears for the first time. They were pointed like his, but much shorter, a hybrid of human and elf genealogy. Before he could really look, she dropped the hair back in front of them. Now that he though about it, her hair did a silver lustre, and her skin was quite pale, and he could see a very slight pigment of purple in it.

"Well! Go ahead and laugh!" She yelled, but Rict could see the anger leaving her body. "Laugh like everyone else." Her posture began reverting to the innocently weak one of before, and Rict could see the strength beginning to leave her legs. Sure enough, he knees buckled under her, and she fell to her knees, her face planting in his stomach. She began to shudder again, but she continued talking between sobs. "Shut me out like everyone else."

Rict placed his arms around her shoulders, and held her there for a moment. Finally her sobs stopped, and Rict spoke, "Melida, I don't think having parents of two different races is wrong in anyway… I just, well, I guess you're good at hiding it." He said, looking towards the sky. "You just surprised me is all."

He felt her shuffle, and she pulled away from his chest. She stood back up, but didn't let go of her grip on his torso. Rict was starting to feel a little uncomfortable, but she spoke again. She raised her head and looked at him, "Rict, I… Thank you." She said, letting go of him and wiping her eyes. She took a step backwards.

"I came by this morning because I wanted to see you." She said after a moment. "I wanted to see you because, well, because of that. You're one of the few people to look past my mixed blood…" She said. She paused for a moment, and finally took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eye.

"I… I want to show you something. Only Dad and Check know about this," she said. She fidgeted her fingers together, but after a moment she seemed to calm herself. Finally, she snapped her head up, and Rict needed a moment to realise what had happened. Her eyes had changed colour. They had gone from hazel to amber with hints of purple throughout. They also seemed to glow lightly around the edges. As Rict took in the change in her yes, her hair's colour shifted ever so slightly, and it seemed to take on and even lighter sheen with more silver to it.

Rict was more then a little shocked at this point. This girl could change eye colour at will? He shifted slightly, and Melida noticed. Her immediate reaction was to shift her eyes back to their hazel colour, but she decided to give Rict another moment before reacting. It seemed like the right choice, and he regained his composure almost immediately. His shocked expression shifted to an incredulous one.

"Wow Melida… They're beautiful." He said, not quite aware of what was coming out of his mouth. "Er, I mean they're nothing to be ashamed of." He said, but the last part was slightly strained as she wrapped him in a curiously powerful hug. Strangely enough, he didn't feel as uncomfortable as before, and he was getting used to Melida's hormonal nature. She hugged him tighter, if that was possible, and let a small sigh out.

After about a minute, she pulled away, and Rict could tell she looked happier then she'd ever been in his presence before. She sat back down on his doorstep, and motioned for him to join her. He decided that there would be no harm in it, and did so. She scooted so that her back was against the wall, and Rict followed shortly after.

Grabbing his right arm, she placed it over he shoulders and leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulders. Rict felt himself relax lightly, but something was bothering him. Thinking over what he would ask, he felt he head nuzzle his shoulder subconsciously. Finally, he asked her.

"Melida, I don't want to pry, but… Why is your mother living in Darnassus?"

Melida shifted slightly, and said, "She's not living there." Rict frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"My mother died giving birth to me… Dad says they could have healed her, but…" He voice caught in her throat slightly. "Healing her would have killed me… And she wouldn't let them." She said quietly. Her mood shift didn't last long though, and she relaxed again. "It's okay. It was a long time ago. It still hurts, but I don't think she'd want me crying over her all the time."

She sniffed, "Anyway, dads gone to visit her grave." She had a serene smile on her face. "I get part of my last name from her. Her name was Armena Starglow, and Dad's is Venst Hearthflame. Melida Hearthglow." She said. She turned her head and saw Rict smiling at her, and the uncomfortable look from his eyes was gone.

They sat there for several more minutes, quietly watching as the sun went down.

----------oOo----------

Maiev tapped her elbow again, and finally uncrossed her arms. The child wasn't coming back. The pot on the stove was beginning to stew, and the spices she'd added had begun to smell nice. She didn't really know what kind of spices went with what, but she mixed what felt right.

She looked at the flanks on the counter, and finally sighed. She picked one up, and placed it upon a heated pan. She repeated this until all the flanks were placed. She then stood there and watched as they began to cook.

----------oOo----------

Melida sniffed the air lightly after a while. She recognised the odour, but couldn't quite place it. She shifted slightly, but Rict didn't move. It took a moment, but she eventually placed the smell. It was burning meat. She shifted again, and lifted Rict'thiel's arm off her shoulders. It was then that she realised he was sleeping. She shook him lightly, and he stuttered awake.

"Something's burning." She said, and she stood up. Rict looked at her confused for a moment.

"Which rings are turning?" He asked. Melida huffed and walked inside. Rict slowly got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. He followed her after shaking his mane of black hair out a little.

He found Melida huffing about in the kitchen. The warden stood back with her arms crossed, while Melida was throwing pieces of leather into the waste bucket.

"I see no reason in throwing them away. They were perfectly edible." Maiev said. She sat down in the chair, and watched. Melida glared at her and went to the cold box and pulled out the last of the goretusk flanks. She pulled some leaves from the side compartment on the box, and took out some spices.

Filling a bowl with a little water, she began grinding the leaves and spices together to make a seasoning sauce. While the warden was trying to look irritated, she could suppress the look of curiosity and interest creeping onto her face.

"I thought you said you'd cooked before." Melida said grinding the last of the leaves into the sauce. She pulled out a knife and began to glaze the meat with it, while she placed another pan on the stove to heat up. Rict sat down in the chair and watched. After she finished glazing all of them, she turned around and looked at Rict.

"Rict, I need some help." Her eyes darted to the warden for a moment, who simply crossed her arms and sat back a little further. Rict noticed a scar tracing the inside of her palm as she adjusted her position. He then stood up and moved to Melida.

"Alright, what do you need?" He asked. Melida grabbed both his hands with one of hers, and tapped his forehead with her other finger.

"This." She said. "I want to sear the meat before cooking it through. Do you think you could put that wonderful flame of yours on low and help with that?" She said, pulling out a pair of elongated two pronged forks. Rict wondered how she knew his kitchen so well, but nodded his head anyway.

A second later, he had a controlled burst of flame sprouting out of his right palm, his left controlling and directing the flow of fire. It rose about three quarters of a foot and stopped. Melida began passing the meat through and turning it over. She would spin them this way and that, trying to prevent them from burning. She'd finish by flicking them onto the pan on the stove.

Rict was too engrossed in controlling the flame that he didn't notice Maiev getting up and leaving the room. Melida turned her head and saw her leave, but made no mention of it.

After several minutes, all the pieces of meat were on the pan, and Rict was sitting down, drinking a glass of water to cool him down. Melida turned around, and taste the vegetable stew on the stove. She nodded silently to herself, and had a slightly perplexed look on her face when she turned to Rict.

"These are going to be ready in a few minutes. You should go tell miss Shadowsing." She said, turning back and flipping the pieces of meat. Rict swallowed the last of the water and nodded. He rose and made his way outside.

He came into the slowly setting sun's light, and saw Maiev standing at the edge of the canal. Through some gnomish engineering, and more then a little magic, the water of the canals in Stormwind was especially pure. You could drink from it if you wanted, though few people did.

"Maiev, the meal is done. Do you want to come in to eat?" He asked.

She promptly dived head first into the canal, disappearing from sight as her form slid past the lip of the canal's edge.

Rict almost had a heart attack and ran forward to the edge of the canal. He thanked whoever took care of the cities water, and watched as her form went deeper and deeper. Eventually she stopped descending, for all he could tell, and started moving around the bottom. She grabbed something, then another thing, and began swimming towards the surface.

She was in the water for all of thirty seconds, and came gasping for breathe as she surfaced. Rict placed out a hand, and she grabbed for it. He hauled her out of the water and she fell beside him. In her arms were the robes Jaina had given him, along with the green sphere he hadn't realised he'd misplaced.

She coughed a little water, and Rict helped her stand up. He grabbed the tops of her shoulders and shook her a little.

"What the hell?!?" He yelled. She raised a hand and he stopped shaking her. Her breath came in small light gasps, which made her chest rise, and fall, the linen shirt she was wearing clinging to it. Rict couldn't help but notice that her breasts were larger then her clothing made them appear. Her nipples were poking through the fabric a little, and her silver purple clung to her like a very bad hat.

"You dropped some things." She said. She then turned and regarded the articles on the ground with a slight smirk on her face. She took a bit of pleasure in Rict'thiel's incredulous expression. Finally, he managed to shut his gaping jaw, and he picked up the robes and sphere. Now something else was bothering him.

The robes were dry. There weren't even moist. Not even a little bit. He looked at Maiev, and she actually had a small smile on her face.

"Th-thanks." He said, "You could have warned me though." He shifted his wait, but the smile on her face disappeared.

"Where we're going, there are no warnings." She said before turning back to the house. Rict wondered why she was being so serious. He sighed, fingering the green orb. It had a slightly blue hew to it now. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He followed her into his home, "Would you like a towel?" He asked, although the answer seemed obvious with Melida shaking her head and Maiev walking towards the washroom.

"Thanks, but I'll get it myself." She said, disappearing into the washroom. Rict walked over to his bed, and gingerly placed the robes in a bag he'd been packing. They went in along side a few choice books from the Stormwind library, as well as some spell components. He heard the washroom down's lock click shut, and he went back to the kitchen.

----------oOo----------

Rict, Melida and even Maiev were relaxing about the table. Rict and Melida were engaged in conversation, while Maiev simply watched. She seemed more at ease around the two then she had been at first. The food had been cleared, and the three had been exchanging conversation, although Maiev less so then the other two.

"So you told me you two weren't together." Melida said pulling Rict closer to her so she could whisper it. Rict laughed leaned back in his chair. He didn't even bother being discreet as he heard Maiev snort lightly as Melida had whispered it.

"We aren't." He said, running a hand through his slightly tangled hair.

"That not how it looked this morning." She said with a wry grin on her face. Rict laughed a little uncomfortably, but shook it off. If either of them had been paying attention, they might have noticed the very slight change in colour on the warden's face.

Finally, when all conversation topics seemed to be exhausted, Melida stood up.

"Well, It starting to get a little dark out. I'm going to go home, partly because I'm tired…" She said, "And mainly because I don't feel like cleaning up." She finished with a grin. Rict laughed, and he stood up.

"I'll walk you home."

"You're just trying to get out of doing the cleanup."

"No, really, I just want to make sure you get home safe." He said. He turned to Maiev for support, and got it surprisingly.

"I too would feel more at ease if I knew you got home safely." She said, nodding her head slightly.

"Well, it settled then, I'll just grab a robe." Rict said cheerfully. He walked over to his dresser and pulled one over his shirt and pants. He'd put pants on after he'd come back in with Maiev. He grabbed the green sphere out of the bag he had beside his bed, and pocketed it.

"Alright, let's go." He said, following Melida out the door. He shut it behind him, and let he lead the way up the streets of Stormwind. He didn't feel very comfortable about walking through Stormwind alone anymore, but there was something really soothing about the trade distract at sundown. The sun's rays shone brilliantly off the canals, and Rict couldn't help but relax. The abundance of guards helped too.

Melida began pulling him by the hand through the market place, and they passed by the public baths. Melida pointed them out to Rict,

"I know Geezle and Rupy." She said happily. As if on cue, the female goblin outside waved at her. Melida waved back, and she brought Rict up to see her. The goblin was average height by Goblin standards, but she was rather plump, and her bust was disproportionably large compared to the rest of her.

"Hey Rupy, how's business?" Melida asked. Rupy smiled back at her, showing surprisingly straight white teethe.

"Well, when you're the only place in town with heated water, you don't get a break she said smiling. We're about to close soon though." She said grinning. She turned to Rict,

"And who is this fine elfin man you have here Mel?" She asked pocking Rict in the stomach. Rict winced a little, but smiled none the less. There was a strange charm to this goblin.

"This is Rict'thiel. He's a friend of mine. I spent the day with him and his girlfriend, and he's making sure I get home safe." She said grinning devilishly at Rict. He gave her a withering glare, but she shrugged it off laughing.

"Oh, what a gentleman." She said grinning herself. Several citizens came out, and she waved goodbye to them. "Well, Rict'thiel, if you ever around, stop by. A friend of Melida's is certainly welcome here."

Melida smiled and thanked her, as did Rict. Melida said her goodbyes, and she turned to leave she. Rupy spoke up again.

"And Melida dear, you really shouldn't wear your hair like that. It hides your beautiful ears." Melida smiled back at her, and she and Rict continued walking. They passed several more shops, and wound their way into the old district of Stormwind. Finally they came to a stop in front of a home near a bakery across the street. A tavern directly to its left, it seemed like a nice place. Melida turned to him and hesitated for a second.

"You're leaving tomorrow right?" She asked.

"Yeah, although to be honest…" He replied, "Nothing, never mind."

She smiled, but seemed to hesitate before talking again.

"Um, is it alright if I come see you off?" She asked, turning her eyes away. She seemed a little shy about asking, although Rict couldn't figure out why. He laughed and nodded his head.

"Of course. Just make sure you don't skip out from the kitchens for too long." He said chuckling. There was something about this girl that warmed his heart in a strange paternal way. She smiled, facing him again.

"I'm not allowed to work in the kitchens without dad." She said. Her smile dropped a little bit, but she picked herself back up, "Anyway, I'll be by tomorrow morning." She said. She turned and fumbled in her pocket for a key. She managed to rummage it out, and opened the door. Waving goodbye, she stepped in. Rict waved as well, and he turned. But, as if something had possessed him for a moment, he turned back around.

"Hey Melida, hold on a second." He said, stepping up onto her porch. He reached into his pocket and perused it for something circular. Melida looked at him curiously, and he produced a small green sphere. It had hints of blue throughout, but it shone with an entrancing iridescence. Melida gazed at it for a quiet moment before Rict spoke up again.

"I want you to take this." He said, contradicting his thoughts of a few days prior. He felt a slight twinge of regret, but he knew his mysterious past would keep bothering him unless he got rid of it. Besides, Melida seemed charmed by it. "You can probably find a better use for it then me. Maybe as some sort of decoration." He said smiling. She smiled at him and took it when he offered it to him. She then wrapped him in another bear hug. He felt the air squeeze from his lungs slightly. She pulled away after a moment, and planted a peck on his cheek.

Rict blushed slightly, but backed out the door.

"I'll come by tomorrow morning." She said, "Goodnight."

"You too." He said, and she clicked the door shut. Rict began walking away, and brought a hand to the cheek she's pecked. Quite exuberant, he thought. He made his way through the winding streets, picking his way home.

----------oOo----------

Rict walked through the trade district on his way home. His leg hurt a little, but it was more of a tingling sensation then anything else. He was fairly certain wounds did not heal this quickly, but the silver stitches had fallen out in the tub earlier. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear the goblin at first.

"Hey, Rict'thiel. Come here a moment." He heard, and his head turned to see the goblin Rupy waving at him. He smiled and made his way to her.

"Dear me, you look tired." She said with a wink. "Come in and use the baths for a little while." Rict noted the closed sign, but felt he would be safe around friends of Melida. He walked in and the subtle aroma of incense. He followed the tap of Rupy's shoes, and she led him to a change room.

Rict stepped in, feeling a little uneasy, but he got undressed regardless. He grabbed one of the fluffed towels off the hangar. Stepping out, he saw Rupy picking up a few discarded towels. She glanced up at him.

"Mmh, that girl really knows how to pick them." She said, and grinned wickedly at Rict. He blushed uncomfortably, and made his way to the baths. "You keep the towel on by the way." She yelled after him. Rict felt his cheeks redden, as he was planning on taking the towel off. However, as he sank into the lightly scented water, he felt himself relax. Stretching out against the side of the marble bath, he dunked his head under the water.

He brought his head up to see a green form entering the bath. Towel around its waist, it sat opposite form him, seeming to enjoy the water just as much.

"Wonderfully relaxing eh?" It said, and Rict rubbed the water out of his eyes. He nodded silently, but didn't give a verbal response. "The names Geezle by the way. I take it you've met Rupy. Should've, she's the one who told me you were here." Rict nodded his head, trying to keep up with the goblins fast pace of conversation.

"Um, yes. I was walking by and Rupy invited me in. I hope that isn't a problem." He said, shifting his towel under the water. The goblin nodded.

"So, I here you're a friend of Melida. Good girl, if a bit misunderstood. Rupy keeps telling her not to hide it. You know what I'm talking about right?" He asked. From somewhere behind the edge of the marble basin, he produced a cigar. He lit it with a strange pen that seemed to sprout flame. Sucking a puff back, he watched Rict'thiel nod.

"Good girl that one." He repeated, "Tell me… Rict'thiel? I'll call you Rict, easier to say. Anyway, tell me, how did you meet her?" He asked, exhaling the smoke through his nose. Rict paused for a moment, and then explained his mishap in the castle kitchen. The goblin snorted back some of the smoke when Rict told him about Check's eyebrows.

"Yeah, her father sounds like a good man. Her brother… Not so much. He's still young though, I'm sure he'll wise up eventually. I should clock him one though, picking on her like everyone else." Rict quirked his head to the side, and asked.

"Why would he mistreat her for being a half elf, isn't he one as well?"

Geezle shook his head, moving the cigar from his mouth. "Same father, different mothers. Melida's other mother died of the plague a while back. Her father met Armena when he was looking for a cure. Guess he grew attached." He said, bringing the cigar back up to his face. "Good woman too. Met her once when my wife and I were getting installed here. She was helping a woman with the plague that'd came to see us for out _goblin magic_" He said, referring to the almost mystical quality of goblin inventions.

"The woman died, but she stayed with Armena and Venst while she was in Stormwind. I remember seeing her at the woman's grave outside Stormwind." He said a little more solemnly. Then he grinned, "Good looking woman too. Not as buxom as I like em', but very curvy. Kinda like Rupy, but… Taller and… younger... Okay nothing like Rupy. Same eyes though. Ah, I love Rupy's eyes…" He said, sinking deeper into the water. Rict was feeling entertained. The goblin had a fun way of looking at things, even serious ones. Geezle took another drag from the cigar, its tip glowing lightly,

"So, I guess you want to do some talking." He said, grinning at the elf and leaning forward. Rict thought for a moment,

"Actually, I was curious."

"Fire away."

"How is it you met Melida?" He asked, shifting himself to a more comfortable position. His muscles felt light and stringy, but it was a good stringy.

"Ah." Geezle said, sitting back again and taking a particularly deep drag from his cigar. "Met her two years ago. Not as tall then. We were installing a new heating coil into the back of the shop and I needed to go get some tools." He said, his voice slightly tighter then before. "Found her crouched in a small pool of blood. Almost had a heart attack when I did. Managed to drag her back to the shop, and Rupy had a look at her. That she-devil has quite the temper, but she can work wonders with medical equipment."

Rict nodded, "The fact that she knows a little magic helps. Anyway, Melida had been attacked by another group of children apparently. Broke one of her ribs and her nose. They also cut of part of both her ears. Wasn't until Rupy had healed them that we realized she was half elfish. I remember her crying, asking us to leave them the way they were. Course, when Rupy found out." He took another drag, the cigar now half way done, its ashes falling into the water of the bath. "When that wife of mine found out, she would have none of that. Anyway, she healed her up good as new, although I think her rib didn't set properly until later…"

Rict looked horrified, but managed to keep his facial features under a certain degree of control. Geezle saw his expression though,

"Don't go worrying about that girl. She hasn't gotten trouble since. We found three of the kids nearby, one of them with a broken arm." He spat into the water, and Rict felt more then a little glad as it floated away from him rather then towards. "Damn kids shoulda been thrown in the stockades. Anduinn was a decent king and all, given his age, but damn he couldn't persecute at all. Anyway, we've known Melida ever since that day. She comes here from time to time after hours. Says she doesn't feel comfortable in here with other people. Can't blame her. Rupy'll take baths with her from time to time. I try to sneak a peek and see how she's growing." Rict looked slightly horrified again.

"He he, gotcha. Only kidding about that part. Hope she turns out like her mother though. She's got paler skin then normal, and Rupy keeps heckling her about not hiding her ears. Oh well, she'll gain confidence sooner or later. You aren't the daughter of a master druid, only to become a cook hand. Nah, I'm sure she'll find something." Rict was shaking his head, and didn't catch that last part.

"Anyway, got any other questions you want to ask?" Geezle said, putting out the cigar and leaning back. Rict hesitated for a moment, but finally asked,

"Why did you come here to set up a bath house?" He asked, wincing as Geezle's eyes took on a slight glow that'd he'd seen only a few minutes earlier. He winced again, and Geezle began talking.

"Well, I used to be a weapon smith. A good one at that. Anyway I decided that…"

Rict sighed, preparing himself for another of Geezle's verbal barrages.

----------oOo----------

Rict made the last turn home, and was pleased to see three guards standing near his home, two at different intersections and one on the bridge some forty meters from his home. He unlocked his front door and found Maiev standing beside his bed, wearing nothing but her underwear and a t-shirt. His cheeks reddened, but he rationalized that sleeping in clothing was uncomfortable.

He went in and washed up in his washroom. He had a feeling the water from the baths wasn't quite clean in the men's section. Coming out, he found Maiev tucked in, her head against the pillow, her eyes closed. Rict removed his robe and pants, and got in wearing his shirt and boxers. He pulled the covers tight, as it was especially chilly that evening.

Maiev moved away from him, facing the other side of the bed and moving to the edge of said side. Rict lay on his back, and he waved out the lights. He felt Maiev shudder a little bit, but decided to make nothing of it. Soon enough, he felt her breathing slow, and she seemed to be asleep.

Rict wished it would come as easy for him. He lay there for over half an hour, enduring Maiev's slightly restless form of sleep. She shook a little from side to side, and Rict glanced over once. Her forehead was covered in sweat, but other then that she seemed fine.

He sighed, but was interrupted mid sigh as Maiev turned over in the bed, her head coming to rest on his chest again. Like that morning, he felt himself slowly become intoxicated by the scent of her hair. Part of him wanted to move and give her space, and he even did, but she clung to him lightly, and he gave up. Eventually, he let his eyes shut, the scent lifting him into sleep.

He dreamt of shrouded forests that night.

----------oOo----------

**Oh my god! 8250 word chapter, URG! Anyway, this chapter is again dedicated to Sygnya, for her reviews. **

**I'd also like to thank Mike for repairing my Pc after it broke down ( That's why the update took so long.) and for doing it at half price for me. Thank you Alex for helping me install Windows 7 on my Pc, and helping me recover my files. **

**Anyway, until next chapter.**

**Just-Corey**


	5. Sailing Away

A heavy pounding woke Rict from his light dreams. He shook his head once, and then twice, wondering whom it could be. The answer coming as rather obvious, he smiled to himself. He went to get up, but was stopped by a weight on his chest. Again. He shifted, and was in turn hit by a wet forehead. Maiev was tossing around more then the previous night, and her forehead definitely felt wetter. Rict moved her head off his chest, and began to rise up.

He didn't get halfway when the door swung open. Melida stood in the doorway, putting away a thin piece of metal and waving at him. "You said you two weren't dating…" She grinned slyly at him.

"How did…" He asked, moving Maiev off him completely. Melida grinned,

"Trick dad taught me." She said, and walked into Rict'thiel's home. Another man was at the door, and waited to be beckoned by Melida. He looked rather angry, and Rict had a feeling he could guess why. Melida was doing a good job of ignoring it. Speaking of Melida, what was that around her neck?

She noticed him staring. "Like it?" She asked, pointing at the necklace. She moved it and Rict could now see the green orb he's given her at its centre. "Was up late last night making it. Had to go see Geezle to help me finish it. He's pretty good at jewelling." She said, smiling happily at him. She went about directing servant, getting him to load all of Rict's packed possessions onto the trolley. Rict shook Maiev awake, and she seemed rather startled that she hadn't woken up on her own.

"Wasn't Geezle mad that you woke him up early?" He asked, getting out of bed. Melida, who was inspecting the unclean table in the kitchen form the doorway, turned back to him.

"No… Should he be? Its past noon you know. Actually, why have you slept in so late?' She asked. He scratched his head, not giving an answer. "Is it cause' you were up late doing something… _strenuous_?" She asked, grinning at him again. Rict returned her grin with a glare of his own and began to move towards the bathroom. "No." Was all he said before he got to the door.

"Hey, you can't take a bath now."

"Why not, I'm filthy." Melida returned that with a raised eyebrow. Her hair was placed so that you could see her forehead, and her eyebrows arched sharply like that of a night elf. Actually, as Rict looked, something seemed off. It took him a second, but he found it. The tips of her ears were poking out the top of her hair, ever so slightly. Not enough for someone to see them at first glance, but if you looked long enough, they were there. It suited her.

"Because, you're late. The ship leaves in an hour. Andy's dad already went down to the harbour to make sure nothing disturbed your boat. He had something with him now that I think about it. Probably some map." She said, tossing Rict one of his own shirts.

"Then we'd best make haste." Maiev said, sitting up and stretching. She took a moment to stand up. She stood next to the bad, taking another stretch. As she stretched, her t-shirt lifted up, and she exposed her panties. Melida took a sidelong look at Rict, who'd just finished pulling his shirt over his head, replacing the one he'd worn to bed.

"Nothing happened." He said, and Melida dropped it. The smirk took a little longer to vanish, but eventually, she went back to business. She placed the robes Rict had on his nightstand; the one Maiev had rescued, into the small back bag, and tossed a pair of pants at Rict.

He pulled them on, and picked up his back bag. Maiev was pulling on a pair of leather breeches. She already had her leather top on. For some strange reason, it didn't even seem dirty, although Rict was certain she hadn't washed it yet. It took a moment for him to realise he was watching her dress, and although she made no note of it, he began to feel uncomfortable. He heard Melida giggle, but he just went to help the servant with the luggage.

"I shall be a while longer. It would be best if you were to start heading there now. I will catch up with you later." Maiev said, pulling on one of her metal greaves. Rict couldn't really understand how she planned on catching up. That armour looked heavy. Rict didn't wonder much on it. He turned back to Melida, who was moving out the door, and nodded. They moved away from the portal, and Rict glanced back one more time. Maiev was now wearing both her boots, and her cloak. He noticed with passing interest that it no longer looked tattered and ragged. He also couldn't understand how he ever thought she looked like a man.

----------oOo----------

Winding around another corner, the servant gasped at the weight of Rict's cart. He'd been doing so for the last couple of minutes. Rict'thiel finally capitulated, and grabbed a handle to help him with the cart. He began pulling, and the man simply let go. The cart rolled with surprising ease, but the servant still seemed exhausted.

"You can go back now Josh." Melida said dismissively. The man nodded, and though he didn't seem happy, he begrudgingly followed her order. Melida didn't even give him a second glance. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, and she looked nowhere but the ground.

Glancing around, Rict felt surprisingly angry. They were walking through the garden portion of the magic district, and he could see the night elves whispering in their doorways. While he couldn't hear everything, _Half-breed, mixed dog, and elf slut_, floated by several times. He pulled a little harder, and walked beside Melida. Without asking, he placed his hand under her chin. She didn't react, and Rict slowly raised her head as they walked. She looked at him a moment, and Rict returned the look.

"Don't let them win. Its nothing to be ashamed of, so keep your head high." He said, feeling surprisingly smooth. She smiled back at him, and looked ahead, he arm moving his across her shoulders.

They continued to the dock, and Melida's head didn't droop as much.

----------oOo----------

Rict had never been to the docks before, and the sheer size and scope of them left him awestruck for a moment. He was amazed dwarves had been able to build this, but he'd also heard of Ironforge, so it shouldn't have been so surprising. Regardless, he still stopped when he came out of the archway, pausing to take it all in. The harbour seemed to expand before his eyes, and yet, it was surprisingly empty.

"Yeah, I was disappointed my first time here too." Melida said, seemingly able to read his mind. She pointed to the docks, and Rict noticed there were only three ships there. He'd figured Stormwind would have a more impressive navy.

"Dad says the night elves are the ones who make the best ships. So, well I guess Andy's dad didn't want to change a good thing." She said, pulling him along the path. Rict grunted lightly at the weight of the trolley, but followed without slowing down. They took a series of ramps, passing a disgruntled shop keep, who was complaining about his roof. Finally going around the last bend, they arrived at what Melida said was his ship.

It was big.

Not huge, but big. It must have been a hundred and fifty meters long, with a large rotating thing in the back. Rict assumed that it helped the ship sail. He was so engrossed with examining the vessel that he didn't notice a man coming up beside him. A hand fell onto his shoulder, and he turned suddenly.

"Quite the beauty eh?" Varian said, grinning at him. Rict nodded, before recovering himself. "I see you're here, but where is Lady Shadowsong?" He asked, looking at Rict'thiel more directly.

"She- she uh, she said she would-"

"Over here my lord." He heard a voice call from in front of him. Maiev was against the rail of the ship, signalling down to him. Rict looked up, rather surprised, considering he couldn't figure out how she got there. How long had she been there? How did she get ahead of them? Rict didn't even bother asking those questions, and simply kept a slightly warier eye on the warden.

Varian turned to Rict, "Well son, I guess you should get your stuff loaded." He signalled over a deck hand that took Rict's cart form him. "Um, just leave it on the deck please. I'll handle it form there." The Deck hand nodded, smiling a little, and Rict turned back to Varian. He simply cocked his head, looking at Melida. Rict turned to her, and said,

"Well, this is where I leave you Mel. Stay safe okay." He said. He felt this strange connection with Melida, and it disturbed him a little considering he'd only known her for a few days. Upon reflection though, he realised he knew practically no one outside of the castle libraries. Melida moved towards him and gave him another of her particularly tight hugs. He gasped for breath again, but held onto her. He saw Varian give a sort of fatherly smile. After over a minute, he pulled away, and Melida shuffled back.

Varian signalled him over to him. "Stay there a moment Melida." He said, and Rict walked over towards him. The bag holding the robes he'd received still in hand, he approached Varian. The king moved the cloth-covered bundle under his arms. He handed it over to Rict, and motioned for him to remove the cloth. Rict obliged, and was greeted with a gleaming blade. It shone with a silver sheen, but held tints of gold in the pommel. Rict gasped and looked back up to the king.

"Magni dropped it off when he came to the meeting. Said he'd been working on it the moment I told him about the plan. Speaking of which, I don't want to put any undo pressure on you, but you need to destroy Utgard at all costs. With it still intact, we can't advance out of the valley. Anyway, the ship is supposed to cast off in thirty minutes, so you should get aboard." He said pointing to the ship. Rict tore his eyes away from the sword and looked at Melida. She waved at him, and he got onto the ship.

----------oOo----------

Maiev was impassive as Rict found his way to the room he'd been given. He hadn't grabbed the trolley on the deck, deciding it'd be better if he knew where he was going before he lugged it through the halls. He finally found the number on the ticket he'd been given by Maiev. She continued walking, and went into her room, next door to his.

"Cast off in twenty five minutes!" He heard muffled through the roof of his room. He placed his carrier bag, containing only the robes Jaina had given him on the shelf, and flopped down onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

----------oOo----------

"Well Melida, I believe we should return." Varian said, turning to regard the girl. She nodded. And they both made they're way towards the ramp leading back to the capitol. "I appreciate all you've done in Educating Anduinn. Venst and I go way back, and I'm glad to see his daughter is getting along with my son so well."

Melida nodded. Varian knew that she was half Elvin, and he didn't seem bothered by it at all. He was a warm enough person, when he wasn't handling politics, and Melida had been taking care of Anduinn for the past couple years. She was only two years older then him, and…

Her thought were cut short by a loud boom coming from the direction of the city. A man was running towards her and the king, his uniform waving in the almost hysterical manner he was running. He came gasping up in front of Varian.

"My lord. The scourge! They- they have attacked Stormwind. I don't know how they've managed, but the entire Trade district is overrun! We managed to evacuate those at the rear, but its just gone sir. They torched the whole place. We need your help sire. We're holding them back at the bridges connecting to other districts, but we're taking heavy losses." The man gasped between breaths.

"How on earth did they get past the gates?" Varian asked, "What about Goldshire and the outlying villages?" He asked.

"We received the warning from them. Huge hordes of Gargoyles carrying what appeared to be geists were spotted flying over them. We assume that's how they opened the gates to the city. The gargoyles have been dropping the geists off and snatching up civilians. They bring them up into the air and…" He cringed, and Varian seemed to get the picture. Melida was backing away.

"Very well. Order all civilians capable to board any ship leaving. Tell all the captains they're to cast off in two minutes." A group of such civilians were standing nearby, and they all began to run towards the ships. "We're not sacrificing Stormwind. I'll be damned if the scourge take my home. Regardless, we need to limit civilian casualties." A group of citizens flushed past the two, and Melida was hit head on by them. Instead of falling to the ground, she was swept up in them.

"Let me go!" She screamed, and she tried to break away, but before she could, she felt a sharp pain in the centre of her forehead. Everything became dizzy, and she struggled to not get trampled. The clacking of her feet change, and the sound became denser. More hollow. The rest was a swirl and darkness clouded over her as she collapsed against the now wooden ground.

----------oOo----------

Rict felt the ship adjust sharply. He'd only been lying down for a couple of minutes, so it must have been a wave. Still, it must have been a pretty big one to jar the ship like that. He began to sink back into the fuzz of his daydream when it lurched again, and he sat up. Before he could do anything, he saw that his door was shifted ajar, and Maiev's form raced past. He got up and promptly followed her. He wasted several seconds trying to weave his way through the confusing corridors of the ship, but he emerged on the deck eventually.

Hell greeted him. People were running this way and that; strange hooded creatures were jumping all over the deck. A flash of bright purple light broke him from his stupor, and just in time too. Instead of taking a face full of claws, he only got scratched as a gargoyle dive-bombed him. As he duck away, he came up against the side of the door. Striking it hard, he raised his hands and set a quick burst of flame after the fleeing beast. Nothing powerful, but it was enough to tell it to look for easier prey. Which it promptly did. Rict gazed in horror as it plummeted towards a sailor engaged with one of the hooded creatures. It grabbed the man by the shoulders and pulled him into the air, where several other gargoyles waited. As he rose higher they began to swarm around him, eviscerating him with their claws. Blood and chunks of flesh fell down, splattering the deck beneath them. His screams slowly faded away to the turmoil.

He didn't have time to focus on that as he ran towards another sailor engaged with another of the hooded creatures. Before Rict got to him, the monster scored a hit on the sailor's forearm, and received a pair of cuts to its leg. Rict was chanting on the run, and focused to blast of flame to hopefully engulf only the monster. Releasing, he controlled the flame and condensed it, surrounding the monster. It didn't take much more then that. The withered flesh caught fire easily, all the moisture long since evaporated. The putrid form howled before collapsing. Jumping away from the blast of the fire, the sailor ran up beside him. He offered his thanks before pointing towards the stern of the ship. He shouted something about protecting the captain, and the two began to run in that direction. They hadn't made it twenty feet before the man collapsed coughing blood. Rict turned to help him but he pointed to the stern again, and collapsed completely.

Rict swallowed, and began to run towards the fallen sailor, when he began to get up again. Relieved, Rict turned his attention temporarily to a gargoyle menacing a pair of humans. His fire blast missed, but the second one struck. The fur on the creature took flame like wildfire, but it continued to fly for several more second before collapsing in a smouldering heap. Rict had also set fire to on of the human's clothes, and they jumped overboard to put it out.

He turned back to the downed sailor, but the man seemed different. His eyes were white, his expression savage and he swung his blade at Rict. Frozen in horror, Rict didn't have time to react and took a stinging blow to the leg. He fell backwards, gasping in pain, trying to get a quick cast off. As he shuffled away, he heard a slight popping sound, and the next thing he saw, the sailor's arm was cleaved off. Maiev was standing behind him, flipping her crescent in her hand. The sailor continued towards Rict, swinging its stump of an arm uselessly. One deft movement decapitated the man, his head rolling on the deck. She blinked, and was standing beside Rict. Picking him up, he didn't have time to refuse as she blinked again.

A massive pressure built up on the inside of Rict head, as if something were crushing him. His eyes saw nothing, and he couldn't move.

----------oOo----------

Another flash a purple flames, followed by a swarm of boat roaches attacked a geist. He jumped towards the night elf, blinded by the insects covering the sac's eyeholes. She easily stepped around the attack and responded with a swipe of extremely sharp nails. Almost as if they were claws. She tore into the geist's neck, ripping away a chunk of putrid flesh, sending it flying over the edge behind him. The monster collapsed, and she jumped, transforming in a bear, and body slammed it for good measure.

She glanced up, and saw a gargoyle lifting a sailor into the air, other gargoyle's moving in the mutilate him. She jumped and morphed into a hawk, her ascension not slowing in the least. Before the gargoyle could rise another two feet, she struck it upside the head, her talons leaving raked skin in their wake. The gargoyle dropped the sailor, who fell towards the ocean below. They were now several kilometres out of Stormwind harbour, and she could see the last of the scourge re-enforcements. They weren't many, but they could still do significant damage to the ship and its crew. Ducking away from a gargoyle set on a collision course for her, she swooped down scanning the deck. She ducked and weaved to avoid incoming flyers, and spotted something. A redheaded human child was collapsed against the side of a wall on the upper deck, either unconscious or dead. A geist was hovering over her, his blade about to slice part of her. The night elf dive-bombed the target, shifting into a panther mid flight. She took the geist in the back, sending it flying over the lip of the ship and into the water bellow. She turned around, back to the child. She could smell that she was still alive, and pounced onto the next geist that made a move towards the girl's prone figure. Rolling with it, she managed to land on her back. Thinking it had her pinned, the geist raised its blade. It promptly felt the force of her paws as she kicked out, sending it too over the lip of the ship. Flipping over, she morphed into the night elf form and made a grab for the human child.

The remaining undead seemed to be giving her a wide birth, and she took that time hoist the girl onto her shoulder and make a sprint for the lower deck. She morphed her legs into those of bear to support her, and she steadily padded her way to the doorway leading to the sick bay of the ship. She placed her roughly into one of the beds and ran to the door, locking it shut. She ran back to the window, morphing back into her raven form mid stride. Flying through to hole and blasting the window open, she bolted her way back to the deck, tackling a ghoul and she morphed into her human form. She took a stinging hit from its blade. And immediately jumped back, channelling healing energy into purging the curse from the gash. She didn't bother healing the wound, instead opting to send a wave of wind slicing towards him. She cringed as a human was caught in the blast and they were both cut to shreds. Instead of focussing on the remaining undead aboard the ship, she turned to the railing and began sending razor winds up at the re-enforcements. Instead of trying to shred the gargoyles' tough hide; she opted for the wings, tearing holes in their wings. The beasts began to drop form the sky, and she continued to cut them down, her hands flying frantically, trying to keep them all at bay.

----------oOo----------

Rict'thiel's head felt like it was going to pop. It had been like this for several minutes, and he thought that he might have died. Before he could ponder that any further though, the pressure disappeared, and his eyes were blinded by the huge shift in the light spectrum. He was on his hands and knees, probably on the upper deck of the ship. Sailors fought back hordes of undead, trying to protect the captain of the ship. He heard the sound of Maiev blinking around several times as he rose to his feet. A man to his left was grabbed, and Rict turned to help him. He felt claws grip him around his shoulders, and he himself was lifted into the air. He felt a wave of panic as he struggled to get free of the gargoyle's powerful talons. His struggled only gave him deep cuts in his shoulders. He desperately began to cast a spell, hoping to burn the gargoyle carrying him. He barely got to the end when he was tackled full on by another gargoyle. And then they were everywhere. The blast knocked the air from his chest, and he felt claws rake against his chest. A deep gash was torn into his leg, and an extremely sharp pain erupted in his hand. He managed to glimpse it, and his index and middle finger where severed, hanging from tattered strips of flesh. His eyes went wide in panic, and he though he was going to die. All he could hear were the screeches of the gargoyles. He didn't hear the extremely rapid succession of pops. And then he was falling. He looked upwards, and he saw Maiev falling down after him. Seven gargoyles, all with knives in their heads, were falling beside her. And the she was gone. Arms caught him, and they steadied him as he stood up. Maiev appeared beside him, and saw his fingers.

She tore them off, stuffing them into her clothes pocket. Rict's eyes went wide in pain, and he began to collapse, his mouth falling open. She caught him and poured a vial of purple liquid down his throat. Everything seemed to fade immediately, and Rict tried to regain his composure. The burning pain in his hand seemed distant, but regardless, the effects of the powerful drug caused him to swoon. Finally managing to right himself, he felt refreshed despite his many bleeding wounds. He turned his attention back to the fray before he succumbed to his injuries.

Not many undead were left, and he head the muffled sound of a dwarven rifle as one of the gargoyles plummeted to the deck, tackling a night elf near the bow. Only five were still alive, and one of them swooped, and managed to grab hold of a sailor's tunic. Rict was already finished casting, and sent a condensed fire blast at the monster. He singed the man in its claws, but the beast let go, and tried to stay aloft. It failed, and plummeted to the deck, knocking over a luggage rack, sending both of them into the water. Rict saw over the edge as they both sunk.

He turned his attention back to the deck, ignoring the fact that it had been his luggage he'd just watch sink. The night elf that had been tackled was trying to finish off the gargoyle. With her attention turned, another swooped down and grabbed her. A nearby sailor tried to jump catch her, but he fell short, and was tackled over the edge by a geist. The night elf began to shape shift, but was struck in the head by another gargoyle, and she was stunned.

Rict was already casting, and he used his right hand to narrow the blast, his left, the one missing the fingers, guiding it. He finished the spell but continued sending mana into his right hand for as long as he dared, before releasing it. It shot out at extreme speed, widening, as it got further away and harder to control. It took the creature full in the chest, blasting a hole through it. It gave a strangled cry, and let her go. It fell into the water. She fell onto the deck. She began to rise, and Rict saw another geist jumping towards her. He sent a quick blast of flame, re-directing its course mid-flight, sending it over the railing. It managed to grip the railing, and looked at the night elf a moment before looking down. Rict was almost done casting when the geist let go, falling down and barely dodging a second blast of flame.

Rict began to cast another fire spell and finished, looking for something else to light up. But, there were no more targets. All the scourge were dead. A single zombified human stood up, and Rict released the spell onto it, as the captain took a pot shot at its head. For a moment, Rict felt elated, and the crew began to cry out in victory. Then the dull pain in his hand reminded him of his wounds. He looked down at his hand, and swallowed bile at the two stumps. He also saw that his clothes were ripped to shreds. He began to fall backwards when a pair of hand steadied him. The sailor holding him up helped him regain his balance, and Rict moved towards the railing of the bow.

The night elf across the ship was sprinting between fallen humans, checking to see which were dead and which were still alive. The elated feeling from victory caused Rict to jump over the railing down to the deck. Several sailors followed suit. Rict landed on a human child's body. At first he didn't recognise what it was, because it was so mangled. Once he did however, the feeling of elation left him. The child's eyes were cut open, a clear gel pouring out of them. Part of the child's jaw was ripped off, along with his left arm. His chest was torn open, his ribs peeled back and his organ mutilated. Rict couldn't suppress the bile in his throat, and he threw up what little was in his stomach beside the child. He felt himself blacking out when he was pulled off the child.

He fell back against the ground, and a green light flowed over him. He immediately felt calm, and he through he could feel the faint rustle of leaves on the wind. It didn't last though, as he saw the green light concentrate near his left hand. A wave of extreme pain, even with the drug he'd taken, swept over him as Maiev jammed his severed fingers back onto his hand. The light swirled around it, and Rict watched in horror and pain as the flash began to knit itself back together. Finally it stopped, and Rict instinctively flexed his digits. They moved, although the middle two had stiffness to them. But they no longer hurt. In fact, physically, he felt better then he had in days.

He stood slowly, and turned to the night elf that had healed him. He thanked her, and she simply told him, "Get to the infirmary. You're going to feel that spell pretty soon, so hurry up. Here's the key, the door is that way." She said, pointing across the deck. Without another word she turned and began healing a human whose abdomen had been torn open. The man screamed in pain as Rict slowly made his way towards the door. It had only been a few seconds, but he felt himself getting slower.

----------oOo----------

Black. Just endless darkness. Nothing else. No sound, no light, no smell, no feeling. Just nothing. Calm, relaxing emptiness. It didn't last.

Her sense of smell returned first. She wished it hadn't. The stench was unbelievable. She tried to breath in through her mouth, and realised she could feel again. Something was near her. Pressing down upon her. It was dreadfully cold. She struggled to get it off her and that's when she felt pain again. Pressure pressed down upon her chest, crushing her. She opened her eyes and began to screech at what she saw. Sitting on top of her was a lanky man, his head encased in a sack with holes cut out for his eyes.

She didn't even manage to get out a single wail. The creature smothered her mouth with his hand, and reached behind his back. After moment, he pulled out a dagger. It had a sickly purple tint to the metal, and she began to thrash, violently trying to escape as her eyes went wide in terror. For all her struggling, it did no good. The creature twisted the blade in its hand a few times for no apparent reason. It finished the spin with a distinctive click, and lowered the blade to her neck. Taking aim, it brought the blade back, and plunged.

She shut her eyes in terror, and felt the shockwave and pain from the attack. The pressure on top of her lessened, and she was amazed she was still conscious. She felt warm all over, and her neck felt wet from the blood. She opened her eyes, and she first gazed at the smouldering pile of ash near the window. The window was wide open.

"Melida! What the hell are you doing here?" Someone yelled. She turned and looked at a tattered and dirty Rict'thiel. She was completely motionless. He stared at her incredulously, and after a moment, she began to tear over. He ran and sat next to her, helping her up. She sobbed into his chest, for all the good his shredded robes did him. "How did you get here?" He asked again after a moment. Without pulling away from his chest, she said.

"I- I don't know. Varian was yelling about an attack, and people started running. They grabbed me and-" She stopped, pulling away from him. Sniffing, "I don't know what happened after that." She said after a moment. "I woke up and that thing was over me. It- it cut me. By the light this hurts." She said. She opened her mouth to say something else, but convulsed; vomiting blood and food all over Rict's already destroyed robes. Rict jumped back, and winced as he felt his fingers snap suddenly. He ran out the door.

"Help. Hurry please! Someone, help me!" He yelled as he reached the deck, scrabbling towards Maiev and the night elf that's healed him. Without looking up, the night elf yelled, "I told you to go rest. Don't make me force you!" She continued healing a fallen sailor, his arm broken.

"Its Melida, she's in the sit bay! Something's wrong with her. She said she was cut, but it wasn't deep, and her bleeding stopped. She was fine one moment, and then she, well she vomited blood all over me." The night elf looked up, saw his robes, and began running towards the sick bay.

"Shit…" Was all she said as she thundered through the halls, Rict not far behind, panting as he followed. They entered and Maiev blinked in beside them. Melida was on the bed, convulsing, and the green sphere around her neck was glowing extremely bright. The night elf ran up beside her bed, and tried to pin her down as he channelled magic through her hands. Melida thrashed even more violently, her eyes shinning bright purple, then orange. They kept switching, and she managed to throw away the night elf. The green sphere grew even brighter, blinding Rict. "Pin her down!" He heard the night elf scream, and he ran forwards blindly, grabbing hold of Melida's arms with all his might and pressing them hard against the bed. She thrashed even more violently, but the night elf was channelling a purple energy into her body. She moulded the purple light into her hand, forming a ball, and pressed it into the cut on her neck. Flashes of angry black light struggled against the purple, and it was slowly pulled out of Melida. As the black light slipped out, she stopped thrashing, and the light from the sphere died down. After a few more seconds, she settled, and the night elf immediately checked for a pulse. She fell back, relieved. "She's alive. Thank Elune." She stepped away from Melida, sweat on her forehead. Panting, she looked at the ash on the floor. She stooped, and rifled through it, and finally pulled up the knife.

"Is this what cut her?" She asked after a moment. Rict shrugged, "I would assume so. She said it was a knife, that's all." The night elf nodded, looking away, "Amazing…" She muttered. For once, Rict decided to ignore elfin etiquette and asked, "What's amazing? Will she be okay?"

"She'll be fine." She said dismissively. Maiev had left the room to go help back on deck. The night elf lifted the knife. "Do you know what this is?" She asked.

"Looks like a knife." Rict said, not really understanding where this was going.

"It's a scourge blade. If you look at the metal, you can tell by its purple tint. They cause whomever they cut to succumb to shock, and then go into respiratory and cranial arrest cut. Basically, it kills you. Then, its magic sends a curse into your body, animating your flesh, turning you into a ghoul. Necromancy on the go." She said, pausing. "Most geists come equipped with them now. While geists can't infect other with the plague, these knives more then make up for it."

Rict's head was swimming, more from the healing then the actual conversation. After a moment, he asked, "Then, how long does someone have before they die?"

"Normally, seconds. Which brings me to my next question." She said, walking over to Melida. She fingered the orb around her neck; the sphere Rict had given her, "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh, it's a green sphere I gave her yesterday. She placed it on a necklace. Why?" He asked. The night elf tugged sharply, and the Necklace's clasp snapped open. She lifted it up to her face.

"Wrong. This is called a verdant sphere. They absorb magic, harmful or helpful. This is why she's a live right now, so good job. You saved her life." Rict swooned a little again.

"I was able to remove the curse because this had absorbed most of it already. Tell me, does the colour look different from before?" She held it up to Rict's face. Indeed, it did seem darker then when he'd given it to Melida. It was slight, but noticeable. He nodded.

"That colour change is the original magic being mixed with the new curse. Each type of magic comes in a form of energy, and that energy manifests as a colourful mist. Death magic just happens to be black. Fel magic is green." She said, sending an eye at Rict for a moment. She placed the necklace down beside Melida again.

"So who are you?" She asked.

----------oOo----------

The captain sat behind his desk, nursing a gash in his arm. For all the savagery of the battle, he'd managed to stay in pretty good health, which was good, as all three of his helmsmen had died in the fight. Only he could navigate the ship at the moment, and it needed to get as quickly to Valgarde as possible. A knocking sounded from the door to his cabin.

"Come in." He said, still nursing his arm. He continued for a moment, then shouted, "Come i-" He looked up, and Maiev was standing in front of him. "Ah yes, miss Shadowsong. What can I do for you? We're rather busy at the moment though."

"A human child was brought on board. She needs to be returned to Stormwind immediately. I request that your return to the harbour." She said.

"Would love to honey, but Stormwind is under attack, and I have orders to take you straight to Valgarde. Once we're there, and I receive message that Stormwind is sae again, I'll return with her, just point her out." A line of irritation crossed Maiev's face, but she simply nodded.

"Very well."

----------oOo----------

"I see. I've heard of memory loss, though I've never met a case as severe as this." She said, pulling her leather tunic over her head.

"Yeah well, it's extremely annoying. I keep getting these little recollections of my past. Nothing significant Ridania, just little bits of information regarding a subject I guess." Rict said, sitting in his chair. Ridania shook her hair out, its bluish satin fluttering lightly.

"It's a start." She said, turning away from him and reaching for her staff. "By the way, how have you not collapsed from that healing? Fingers are hellishly taxing to re-attach. You should go and find somewh-" She turned around, and saw that Rict'thiel was dosing against the back of his chair. She sighed and left the room.

There were still lots of sailors to heal.


	6. Moonlit Heat

Rict roused slowly from his stupor, quietly rising back to the realm of the conscious. The warm fuzz of a long sleep still clung to his mind, causing his eyes to glaze even as he opened them. The scents were similarly pleasant, which was a light rustic oaken scent, although it did have an under note of something fowl. It wasn't until he'd lain there for several moments that he realized it wasn't the smell that was calming him. His ears quivered lightly, and it grew louder. Someone was singing.

"_Ka'la no foloste, _

_Serah loush'sta ni,_

_Ckourah shi'len picoste,_

_Aresh no laphi."_

He didn't understand any of the words, although he recognized parts of them. It was something to with the stars, or maybe the wind. His eyes still closed, he shifted, rising from the extremely comfortable sheets. They beckoned for him to return, but he resisted, instead opting to discover the source of the singing. He didn't have to look far. He was dismayed as the singing stopped, but the melody continued, and he realized who it was as he opened his eyes.

Sitting on a stool between him and someone else was the druid, Ridania. She was quietly humming to herself now as she tended to some unknown soul beside Rict. He sank back a little, and was silent as she continued her melody, unaware of him watching her. The soothing sounds almost sent him back to sleep, and his eyes had glazed over. It was the feel of a cold cloth against his forehead that roused him this time.

"Heh, I see that you're awake." She said, pressing the damp cloth a little higher, wetting some of his hair roots. It was surprisingly refreshing, and Rict then realized how hot it was under the sheets. He began to lift them and winced at the sharp pain the raced up his arms. "Hurts doesn't it? Yeah, re-attaching fingers can be a bitch on your nervous system." She said, grinning at him.

Rict was a little taken aback by her language, but didn't comment, instead focusing on moving the sheet with the back of his hands. After struggling some more, "As fun as it is to watch you struggle… Here." Ridania said, pulling the sheets down to his waist. "Thanks." Rict said, panting a little in the much cooler air.

"So, how do you feel?" She said, sitting back in her chair a little bit.

"Actually, I feel pretty good. I don't think I can use my hands for…" He paused for a second, glancing at her.

"The pain'll go away in a few hours. I hope." She added, grinning at him wryly again. Rict swallowed, although her sense of humor was a little refreshing after spending so much time with Maiev.

"Great. I guess there's not much I can do around here until then. Hey, what time is it?" He asked, "Actually, how about we start with where I am."

"Ah, well, you're in the sickbay. I didn't have the heart to leave you on the floor after you flopped out of the chair you collapsed in. As for the time, well, judging from my time gauging friend the window over there, its almost sundown." She said sarcastically, glancing at the window. Rict looked out and the sun was indeed making its last blaze down the horizon. "You've been out for a while. More then a day actually. That night elf you were with was looking a little worried. You and her together?"

Rict shook his head, and immediately regretted it. He swooned a little, but the black spots that clouded his vision went away after a moment. "No."

"Ah, well, you at least know who she is right?" She asked, her grin back.

"Yes."

"Alright… And that would be…"

"Oh, well. Well, Her name is Maiev Shadowsong."

Ridania gasped and lost her balance on the stool she was sitting on. "_The_ Maiev Shadowsong? You're joking right. She's supposed to be dead." She said incredulously.

"Apparently not. Wait, what do you mean she's supposed to be dead?" He asked, more then a little intrigued. Ridania corrected her balance.

"Long story. In short though, when Illidan went batshit bon- err, I mean insane, she was instated as his jailor. He broke out, and she chased him across most of Kalimdor and beyond. He killed a lot of her friends at one point, and then made a break for Northrend. On her way there, she met up with Tyrande Whysperwind, and they joined up with that bastard prince Kael'thas. Together they fought through the undead and reached Illidan's camp. Illidan escaped though, taking a portal to Outland, which she followed. It was widely believed that she had died."

Rict's head was swimming. He'd heard a few of these names before, but none of them registered aside from Tyrande's. "Who was Illidan?"

"Oh my- by Elune you really don't know much do you?" She snickered.

So she explained who Illidan was, and his escape to Outland. She mentioned Lady Vashj and Kael'thas again, but Rict asked no questions of them. They way she pronounced the two's names though… It had a certain vehemence to it. Rict felt he shouldn't breach on that subject.

"Anyway, Illidan's gone and now the Lich King is trying to exterminate us. Which is why- Shit! I completely forgot." She said, sitting forward in her seat. Rict turned some concerned eyes on her and asked,

"What?" He shifted a little in his sheets.

"The captain wanted to see you as soon you woke up. He said it was about…" She shuddered a little, "He just said it was important. You should probably go see him. Now…"

"Should I be walking like this?" He asked, prodding his fingers a little. She smirked at him,

"Unless you walk on your hands, yes." She stood up and grabbed the edges of the sheet. Pulling it up, she helped him to his feet. "There you go. I'll get the door." She said, walking ahead of him and opening the portal. "Do you know where his office is?" She asked as he came to the door.

"Somewhere near the wheel? You know, the one to steer the ship?" He asked, no really knowing the answer.

"Just a little behind that, yes." She said, ushering him through. "Good luck, I have more sailor's, and of course your friend, to attend to."

"Yeah, uh, thanks." He said, before disappearing around the corner, still nursing his digits.

----------oOo----------

The dwarf looked over the sea charts on his desk. Beside them lay a list of all those killed or incapacitated during the fight.

"They don't pay me enough for this job…" He muttered to himself. Going over a second list one could see that he lacked the necessary crew to make the journey to Valgarde. He'd need to recruit some of the civilians who'd taken refuge on the boat. Maiev had already volunteered her help and was working the sail ropes. He wondered if he should de-activate the engine in the back to conserve fuel. Perhaps then he wouldn't need to…

A sharp knocking sent him tumbling back into his chair in surprise. "Come in." He yelled, smoothing out his shirt. The door clicked open and an elfin youth stepped in.

"I was told you requested me.' The elf said.

"Yeah, I was told ya were a spell caster. I hope I aint not mistaken." The dwarf asked, getting to his feet and walking over to the elf.

"Ah, yes. My name is Rict'thiel. I am a fire mage." Rict said, shuffling a little bit. The dwarf shook hands with him.

"Great ta'h meetch'a. The names Ironbeard. Well, captain Ironbeard. I'm the one in charge of this ship, and the voyage to Northrend." He said, moving back to his desk.

"It is good to meet you master dwarf." Rict said, not budging. The dwarf motioned for him to have seat. Rict accepted, although he was a little tentative about it.

"No need for the formalities right now. We're in the field, just call me by me name. Anyway, I got a favor to ask of ye." He said. Rict nodded slowly. "Tell me, Rict'thiel? Anyway, tell me, what do ye know of the undead."

Rict explained what he knew. The captain nodded while he spoke.

"So tell me. Can an undead drown?" He asked. Rict paused, not sure how to answer. "The answer is no. In fact, the water makes em rot quicker, so they become skeletons more easily. Anyway, the alliance has a strict protocol when it comes to sea bound deaths. We no longer send them out to sea. Instead we-"

"Burn them?" Rict asked, sending the captain a suspicious look.

"Aye, which is why I called you here." The captain said after another pause. He shuffled a little in his chair, "What I'm askin' is this. I need you to dispose of the corpses from the battle. I already checked, and we can't spare the fuel necessary for the fire. I… We, need you to do this. We won't be able to reach Valgarde if you don't do this."

"I- uh- Well… Couldn't we stop at a harbor?" Rict asked after a moment. He shifted, extremely uncomfortable. The thought of turning human corpses to ashes sickened him beyond belief. When it wasn't a life and death situation, he found it almost impossible to cast harmful magic. Not because it was difficult, but because he couldn't get up the nerve.

"I would lady, but the king has this ship on a direct course for Valgarde. Sides' no harbors'd accept us if we had a bunch of rotting corpses aboard. Please son, you have to do this. I won't bother ye again fer the rest o' the trip." He said, folding his arms. To him it must have seemed like a generous offer, and Rict realized it was. Still… he didn't think he could do it.

"I- Well- Can I have some time to think about it?" He asked, standing up. He wanted to leave. The smell of the office bothered him, and he thought he might be sick. The dwarf nodded.

"Aye lad, course. If ye decide to, well, the bodies are on the main deck. They're in the big life raft you passed on yer way here. Just be sure to tell me when yer done wit it." He said, opening the door for Rict.

----------oOo----------

"Eastern wind!"

The yell bellowed through the air, swept up by the breeze flowing through the sail beams. The breeze began to pick up, and the sailors moved frantically to capture the wind. Ropes came undone and were re-tied somewhere else, and the sails slowly turned to embrace the flow of the air.

Maiev tied off her rope and moved to one flapping nearby in the wind. From a higher, long beam below her, she heard the sailor who'd been heckling her since she'd started. He was calling up to her again, holding a rope in his right hand for balance. As they worked his beam slowly rotated out over the ocean.

"Come on sweet cheeks. You know you want to go get a drink with me later. And then after you and I can head back to my cabin." He yelled. Maiev ignored him, and finished tying down her rope, moving to the next one. She decided that volunteering to help with the sails was a bad idea, but she couldn't well take it back.

"I bet you love getting' it rough eh sugar?" The sailor yelled up. He wasn't un-attractive, but his face was scared, and his ear hack a large knick in it. A nearby sailor laughed, while two more jokingly pointed at him. Realizing he was building an audience, the sailor continued. "Bet you love takin' it from behind eh babe? Come on down, and We'll find out." He accompanied this by placing both hands in front of him as if on a woman's rump, and began thrusting into the air.

After three good thrusts he knocked himself off balance, and fell. All the way into the splashing waves below. As this happened, Maiev blinked over to him. She grabbed the rope he'd let go and promptly tied it down. Blinking again, she moved to the railing of the ship. She looked over and smirked at the sailor, before throwing the life buoy out an absurdly long distance.

The sailor swam frantically. After a solid two minutes he reached it. The waves were slightly high, so it floated away from the ship. As grabbed it, he expected to be pulled in.

It was then that he realized there was no rope attached to it.

Maiev was leaning against the railing waving at him while twiddling her fingers.

"Bitch." The sailor muttered while he swam back.

----------oOo----------

Rict leaned against the edge of the railing. He'd been down to see the bodies inside the lifeboat. The metal of its casing did nothing to hide the stench. It wasn't even so much as the dead people being in the boat. It was that he recognized some of them. One of hem was the sailor Maiev killed. Another the man who brought his possessions. Even someone from the castle kitchens. And the fact that he recognized them wasn't what bothered him so much either. Is what that he recognized parts of them. Most of the corpses where crumbled heaps of bodies. Bodies that had been slashed apart by blades. Skulls that had been caved in by maces. Jaws, ribs, limbs, ripped off by undead strength.

The sour taste of bile still clung to his tongue. He'd vomited shortly after seeing the heaped pile of limbs. He hadn't eaten anything at all recently, but the image sapped him of any hunger. He felt drained and exhausted, and while his fingers no longer hurt, he hadn't found the strength to move from that spot in over two hours.

He was transfixed on a piece of rope that was bobbing back and forth with the ships gait, and didn't notice as Ridania slinked her way up to him and sat on the rail.

"So I'm assuming the captain talked to you." She said quietly. She swung her legs around so they hung out over the side of the boat. No words passed between the two, and Rict continued to watch the rope swing from side to side. "Listen Brighteyes, you need to do this. If not for the ship then for them. They spent their entire lives running or fighting the scourge… and I think they wouldn't want to become one of them." She said, forming her sentences slowly and with a lightly soothing sound to her voice.

"I- I just don't know if I can." He said quietly after a while. He didn't move, and made no inclination of continuing the conversation.

"Rict'thiel… If you want, I- I could help you." She said after a moment. He looked up at her confused, "You know, so you don't have to be there alone." She said, starring out to the sea. "No one should ever have to do that alone." She said under her breath. Rict caught it, but didn't make note of it. Instead,

"Thank you but- It's rather… well… horrifying. You don't need to see this." He said quietly, his eyes following the rope as it swung more vigorously.

She swung around, her legs coming down beside him. Offering a hand to lift him up, she looked down at him. He grabbed it, and as she pulled him up, "Its alright Brighteyes. Who do you think placed them there?" Rict swallowed tentatively, and they began walking to the boat.

----------oOo----------

Melida stirred slowly. Then she sat up in shock. She frantically glanced around the room she was in. It was unfamiliar and terrifying. She struggled out of the sheets draped atop her, and jumped out of the bed. She landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her legs felt weak, but she pushed her way to her feet regardless. She ran tumbling to the door, ripping it open and stumbling out onto the upper deck.

Bright red light greeted her. She covered her eyes to the glare, and her eyes slowly adjusted to the shift in light spectrum. As the white blinding dots disappeared, she spotted Rict standing beside someone else in front of a life boat on the middle deck. Recognizing him, she called out his name. Assuming he couldn't hear her over the roar of the flames, she ran closer, to try and get his attention.

As she got closer she saw over the lip of the life boat. Burning corpses flooded her vision, and she felt herself swoon. As opposed to collapsing right then and there, her eyes focused on one of the faces. It was Keith, one of Check's friend who worked in the kitchen with him.

His jaw was torn off.

Melida screamed as she took in the whole sight and ran. She didn't where she was running, the image of Keith burned into her mind, his rotting flesh slowly being consumed by flame. Melida darted down hallways, trying to make the vision go away. She came across a room she recognized and barged inside.

She was in the room she'd just woken up in. Without thinking, she jumped onto one of the beds, hoping to glean some form of comfort from the sheets. She got none. Her final thought before he consciousness gave out was the chilling realization that she was all alone.

The entire sick bay was empty.

----------oOo----------

Maiev watched from the shadows as the light from the fire flitted them across her form. She watched as Rict'thiel strained the keep the flames contained. She watched as Ridania supported him, holding his arm to steady him. She watched the expressions of distress on both their faces, Rict's more so then Ridania. She watched as the moon rose a little higher, and the fire went a little lower.

She watched in quiet silence as the shadows flickered in the light.

----------oOo----------

Rict felt the last essence of magic drain out of him, but he kept the flame going. All that mattered was that the flame continued to burn. He had no idea how long he'd kept it going, but the sun had still been up when he started. He felt something nudge his arm; but ignored it, instead focusing on the flame. It was dwindling, and he heard a muffled voice. He ignored it until he heard it again.

"Rict… Rict! You can stop. It's done… Rict!" Ridania said, yelling into his ear and tugging on his arm. He turned and gave he a blank hollow stare, before promptly collapsing. The two fell off the raised platform, collapsing heavily onto the deck bellow. With Rict on top, Ridania struggled a little under his weight, before morphing her muscle fibers, causing them to expand.

"Sorry." Rict mumbled quietly as she removed herself from beneath him. Without speaking she lifted him up to the deck above, propping him against the side of one of the masts. She went and fetched some water, and came back, splashing it into his face.

It didn't work the first time, so she grabbed a second canteen and returned with two full ones. She was halfway through dumping the second one on his face when he snapped awake. Sputtering, and cursing at his now soaked rags, he numbly looked up at Ridania. She was on her feet, but was crouched beside him.

"Come on, drink." She said, pressing the third canteen against his lips. She tilted his head back and rubbed his throat to make sure he swallowed the water. He coughed a little, but was fine after that. He felt completely drained, and couldn't move on his own for several minutes. He was just glad this wasn't a fight or he would have been killed a while ago. Ridania pressed the flask to his mouth again and he took another gulp of water. It felt refreshingly cool against his throat.

Slowly he regained freedom of movement, although his limbs moved with a contrite stiffness at first.

"By Elune, I'd thought you'd over done yourself." She said after a moment. Handing him the flask, she sat down next to him. "Ah well, no harm done eh Brighteyes?" She asked, giving him a little nudge.

"I just hope I didn't do any permanent damage…" He said, referring to his already battered body. He sighed a little, realizing he'd gotten caught up in the spell and over done it.

"Rict'thiel, listen… You really shouldn't worry about the future. I mean, well…" Ridania paused for a moment, and her expression turned distant. "You… Everyone should try to live in the present. Nothing about the future is certain, and well… There's really no point in worrying over something you can't change." She said, shuffling a little. "Hey Brighteyes, you know, you remind me of someone. Well, actually, two people, but I only cared for one."

"Oh?" Rict asked, a little taken aback by her mood shift. "And who's that?"

"Just an old friend." She said, dodging the question. "Don't worry about it Brighteyes. It was a compliment though."

"Ah, I see. Well… uh thanks." Said, shifting to ease the tension in his back. "Why do you keep calling me Brighteyes?" He asked after making himself more comfortable. Ridania laughed at that.

"Well, obviously because you have bright eyes. Bright blue beautiful eyes." She said between chuckles. Rict felt himself relax a little, "Hey, I don't know about you… But I'm done for today. I say we go down to the mess and see if we can scrounge up a drink." She said, beginning to get up. "I'm sure they must have some sort of liquor down there."

"Oh, uh… Alright." Rict said, lifting himself up, struggling a little against his stiff muscles. He'd never had alcohol before, or at least he didn't remember having any. He felt slightly nervous, but he followed Ridania as she led the way through the ship. As they entered the mess, Ridania didn't even hesitate as she moved to a stool next to the counter. Rict paused, and noted the lack of people in a room that should be packed. He made his way up to the counter in time to hear Ridania order a drink.

"Some Ale. Don't care what it is, as long as it's strong." She said, slapping some copper coins and a silver coin onto the counter. The cook snorted, but returned with the drinks. Placing a mug for both of them, he picked up the coins and counted.

"Eh missy, there's more then enough coin here for what you ordered." He said, sliding the coins back to her. She placed a hand on his and stopped him from moving.

"Well, keep our mugs topped off and you can keep them." She said, grabbing the side of her mug and taking a gulp. The cook laughed at her gusto, and went back into the kitchen.

Rict sat still, his body unmoving as he stared at the amber liquid. Ridania tapped him on the forehead. "Come on Brighteyes, take a swig. It'll help you relax." She said, while grabbing hers and taking a large gulp. She burped, "Ah, now that's the stuff." Wiping her mouth with her satin sleeve, she turned back to Rict and saw him taking sips from his mug.

"Oh come on! Like this you wuss." She said, before tilting her head back and somehow downing the entire mug in one shot. Several second later, Rict was looking at her wide eyed as she wiped her mouth. From that moment on he began taking gulps.

The two sat quietly for a while, and the cook came and replaced Ridania's mug with a bottle of the same ale they'd been drinking. She began to sip at the bottle.

"So… I see your new to the drink." She said after a while. Her cheeks flushed form the booze, she turned and regarded Rict. He felt a slight tingle in the front of his mind as he answered.

"Yeah. How'd you guess?" He asked sarcastically.

"Oh just by how you drink as if it's poisoned. Relax Rict. Big strong Ridania is here to protect you incase you get drunk and do something stupid." She said laughing and taking another sip. Rict laughed too, although a little nervously. Trying to change the subject he asked,

"Ridania, um, why are you heading to Northrend?" He asked, feeling a little emboldened by the booze. He finished his mug, and the cook came by and replaced it with a bottle too. Ridania looked thoughtful for a moment, the finished her bottle with a large chug.

"Well, there are a lot of reasons. One being money. I'm down to my last couple gold, and equipment doesn't repair itself. I also felt like it would be a good place to start over. I've been to hell and back, so Northrend can't be much worse." She said, calling the cook over for some more.

"What do you mean you've been to he-"

"Don't worry about it." She said, cutting him off sharply. "Besides, why are you going to Northrend?" She asked, re-directing the conversation.

And so Rict explained the assignment he'd been given by Varian. He wasn't sure whether or not he couldn't talk about it, but Ridania seemed trustworthy.

"Huh, well… Got room for one more?" She asked, referring to his foray into Utgard.

"Uh well…"

"Listen, I won't have any work when I get there anyway, so this could be a good way to prove my usefulness. Sides, this sounds pretty interesting. I've heard of the vrykul. They're supposed to be bloodthirsty giants."

"Ah well… I mean."

"Great, then it's decided. Just hope miss Shadowsong won't object."

She took another swig. Looking over at Rict, she noticed he hadn't even touched his second bottle. The color in her cheeks was darker, and she laughed.

"Pfft. You've barely had anything. Come on, drink up!" She said, taking another swig from hers, downing it. "I know, we'll have a drink off. Hey! Cook, bring down six mugs of this stuff!"

Rict coughed on his own drink. "Ah, wait. Hold up, I don't thin-"

"Oh stop whining. Tell you what, if you beat me I won't ever nag you about drinking again."

He looked at her suspiciously as the cook moved about in back. Looking over the two of them, the cook chuckled a little and mixed a bit of water into the mugs he brought over.

"Alright, but what do you get if you win?" He asked, moving his hands as the cook placed three drinks in front of him.

"I dunno. I'll think of something. But for now…" She said, picking up her mug. Rict moved to his as well, "Let's drink!"

Rict began swallowing the amber liquid as quickly as he could, slopping booze onto his tattered clothes and hair. Swaying a little in his seat, he slammed down his cup and moved to the next one burping. He glanced over. Ridania was already drinking her second. He cursed silently and began drinking the second one even faster, spilling even more. The cook watched them, disdainfully amused. Slamming his second cup down, he could only watch as Ridania finished her third.

After a moment, she turned to him, and burped directly into his face.

"What the hell was that?' He yelled, swatting in vain at the smell of alcohol.

"The sound of victory. Ugh, cook. One more." She said, placing another silver coin on the counter. This time the cook didn't hesitate in pocketing the money, and brought Ridania another bottle.

The two sat quietly for a while, both sipping at their drinks. Soon conversation picked up again, mainly revolving around druid training and magic. As the hours rolled by, Ridania managed to pound her way through two more drinks, while Rict finished his mug and had half of another bottle.

By the end of it, black spots were flitting by lazily in front of Rict's eyes, while the room spun a little for Ridania as she staggered up. Still conscious enough to realize she couldn't walk properly, "Come on. Help me get to my room."

"Yeah, alright. Jus one sec." He turned to the cook who was wiping the counter, "You, my good sir, are an amazing man. I hope to spend time with you again some day." With that, he turned and led Ridania out the door; unaware of the cook's what the fuck expression as they went out.

"Damn elves…"

----------oOo----------

After many minutes of searching, they found Ridania's room. Using a key she managed to fumble out of her pocket, they opened the door, and Ridania walked inside. She cast Rict a sly look and went into another room, "Hold o- hic- on, I have something I want to show you." She closed the door behind her and left Rict alone in the room.

The draft left a slick wet feeling against his skin that he didn't like, so he closed the door. He glanced around the room, admiring the decoration, sparse as it was. A few bags were placed on various shelves, and a single plant was kept beside the bed on a small porcelain pot. As Rict glanced around, he developed a new appreciation for his inebriated senses. Everything seemed calmer, and the fuzz in his vision caused him to miss the opening of the door that Ridania had gone through.

Before he could react, he felt something warm pressed up against him, and it seared even warmer in the areas where his flesh was exposed by the rips in his robes. He looked down, and there was Ridania, pressing him against the wall.

"Wha- what are you doing?" He spat out, startled by her sudden appearance.

"Please." She said into his chest. He didn't know what she meant, but her body's heat was beginning to feel good, especially against his bare skin. She pulled away, "Please, I don't want to be alone tonight." She paused, but continued, "Please stay with me to- hic- tonight." She said. Rict then realized she wasn't wearing anything but panties and a bra, both made of some strange material.

"Rid- hic- Ridania. You're drunk, sto-" She cut him off by pressing up against him, and he felt her lips crush lightly against his own. As his own mouth fell open slightly, he felt something warm and wet slid into his mouth. Her tongue darted around his, trying to coax him into playing with her. He tried to resist, but his heart was beating faster and the heat in his face grew warmer. After a moment he let go, granting her full access to his mouth. She pressed her body up against him harder, grinding her leg against his groin. He moaned lightly into her mouth and felt the last string of his sanity snap. His tongue began to dart into her mouth, trying to imitate what hers was doing. She swept her tongue back and it interlocked with his. Grinding against him again, she broke away.

"I think I know how you can pay me ba- hic- back for losing." She said, grinding back against him, closing her mouth over his again. Rict's mind had gone blank, and all he could feel was the searing heat in his mouth and the delicious grind of her leg against him. She slowly tugged at the edges of his robes, and the tattered garment felt down around his waist. Pushing him harder against the wall, she stopped kissing him, and slid her mouth along his face to his ears, nibbling at them with especially sharp teeth. Her fingers raked across his chest, leaving minute scratch marks from peculiarly sharp nails. The cuts burned deliciously, and Rict gave out a little whimper as she ground against his groin with her leg again.

Finally breaking apart, she shoved him roughly onto the bed and pounced on top of him. She began nibbling at his neck, and the sensation caused him to not notice as she pulled his robes off the remainder if his body, letting them fall into a tattered heap beside the bed. She drew a little blood and lapped it up with her tongue. Although this should have freaked Rict out, he was too swept up in the searing heat scorching all over his body. He felt as he had on the first day he'd woken up, only this was much more pleasant.

She sat back, and undid the braid in her hair, letting it fall cascading down against her shoulders. Although she wasn't all together slim, her body held a muscled firmness that entranced him further as the blue strands fluttered as she moved. She reached back and unclasped her bra, holding it on for a moment. Reaching forward, Rict took it and tossed aside, exposing her breasts to the cold night air. Though not small, they were a little more then a handful, and Rict realized what an amazing job her leather jerking did in hiding their size. Muscle seemed to support them, and so the didn't sag like they should have. Nipples hard, they swayed as she teetered forward to continue kissing him. Before she could make contact, Rict instinctively took one of her tits in his mouth. She gasped, and Rict decided to suckle it a little.

She gasped, and ground her body against his even further. Rict was sweating. He took a light nibble, hoping to cause her to grind against him again. He was justly rewarded. Slowly, he worked his way to the other breast. He'd long since become hard, and it was straining. She began to grind he groin against him, both of them moaning deliciously as they felt the cloth of their undergarments frisk together. Finally, Ridania got off him, and moved back on her knees. Rict looked up at her, his eyes somewhat glazed from what they'd been doing, and gasped as she yanked down his boxers.

"Bigger then I expected." She said, before pouncing back on him. She crushed against his stomach, tracing circles with her tongue, her hand gripped around him. She slowly slid her way down he stomach, her other hand clawing the flesh she'd just licked, leaving new marks that seared with heat. Rict moaned as she stroked him up and down. He gasped when he felt a new heat build up in his grown. Sitting up a little he saw.

She'd taken him into her mouth. Only the tip so far, but the sensation scorched its way up his body to his mind. For a moment he panicked, but then her teeth bit the tip, and he whimpered, falling back against the sheets. Incited by his moans, Ridania began to move up and down, slowly taking more in, then letting it go, biting it lightly as she went. The feeling was begin to burn its way into the center of Rict's mind, and he realized that it felt slightly like being tickled. However, he also felt a pressure building up down there, and he let out a low husky moan. He felt the tension building, bottling up, until.

The sensation went away, the heat replaced by cool air. Rict groaned, but couldn't find release. Instead, he looked up to see Ridania's groin hovering above his face. With both her legs, she pinned his arms to the bed. "Take it off." She said, and all Rict could see the wet spot in her panties. He struggled with his arms, trying to reach for it, but she was too heavy. Finally giving up with that approach, he used his imagination and strained his neck forward. Ridania chuckled, and didn't notice, until he bit down on the fabric, and pulled it down with his teeth. She gasped in shock, and Rict took that moment to free his arms, and pulled them down further. She moved one of her legs, then the other, and they joined the rest of their clothes on the floor.

Rict gazed up, and her pussy glistened in the light flowing in through the window. Her blue public hair was cleanly cut, and didn't follow the wiry fashion his own did. Still, despite all she had done to make it neat, it still had an animalistic chaotic look to it.

"Get to work." She growled, before turning around. Rict was confused as to what she meant, but didn't have time to wonder. She lowered herself onto his face, and took him into her mouth again. Rict panicked, and struggled to get her out of his face when she said, "Start licking Brighteyes." Rict tentatively slid his tongue against her slit, stopping before he hit a small nub at the top. Pausing, he took in her taste. It was musky, and it matched her smell, but it contained sour notes that mingled with a cool earthy under taste. Rict had the feeling she hadn't bathed in a while, but he ignored the sour notes, and focused on the musky flavor. It began to grow on him, and this time when he came to the nub, he slid his tongue over that too.

"Ah," Ridania gasped, lifting her head up from his groin. Rict did it again, and he felt her shudder on top of him. He felt the pressure building up in his groin again. He continued to assault her clit, and even slid his teeth against it. She shuddered again, and raised head.

"I don't think so. There's no way I'm gonna cum before you do." She said, and her head dived back down. Rict felt the pressure building even greater, and he couldn't even find the presence of mind to continue with what he'd been doing. He felt the heat build as she took his entire shaft into her mouth. He noted how her pussy muscles twitched as she moved her upper body, but even that shuffled to the back of his mind, the sensation taking center stage.

An electric tension coursed through his body as he felt the pressure begin to ease. Shudders of muscle spasms brought pleasure like he'd never known before through his body, and he cried out. Ridania pulled up after a moment, coughing, a bit of his cum dripping down her lip. She grimaced at the bitter taste, but swallowed. Rict simply gazed up at her, mouth open, gaping. She grinned back at him.

"Told you I- hic I'd win. Now, here's your punishment for losing." She said, placing her groin back into his face. Rict didn't hesitate this time, and he began to lick with gusto. Ridania moaned lightly, but gasped in shock as he roughly slid two fingers into her. Rict Wasn't even thinking coherently anymore, and began sliding them in and out as roughly and quickly as he could. He felt a stirring in his loins, and his member slowly woke up again.

He slid a third finger in, and she gasped harder. Her face was flushed and she was panting, and Rict grinned a little to himself. He craned his neck up a little, and began flicking her clit with his tongue. Her breathing got deeper, and Rict laughed a little in glee. He slid his other hand over her ass, and probed her butt with his other index finger. Whether she gasped in pleasure or pain, he couldn't tell. She glanced back, and saw that he was erect, and quickly moved away from his fingers and tongue.

He looked up at her, his face completely flushed. She gazed down at him, hers no less red. She hovered over his member as she regained her breath, panting lightly. "Not bad… For an amateur." She said, between pants, grinning at him. Her canines were elongated, and she began to lower herself onto him.

Words could not describe the sensation that coursed through his body. The heat mixed with the wetness and the pressure that surrounded him on all sides as she slid almost all the way down before stopping. Rict felt as if he hit a wall inside her, but forgot that as soon as she began to slide up again. She pulled on his skin in such a way that he felt as if he was on fire. The electricity coursed through him as she began to slide up and down faster. She was panting again, but managed another grin.

"Bet I can make you cum first again Brighteyes." She panted. Rict looked up at her for a moment, and then something snapped inside his head. Without thinking he reached up and grabbed her roughly by the arms. She continued to slide up and down, and was biting her lip when she slid up. Rict lifted and she slid off him. Before she could react, he surged with animalistic lust and flipped her to all fours. She gasped, and tried to support herself as Rict took her from behind. He started out rough, but became more gentle as they both accustomed themselves to the new position.

Even from the drastic shift, Rict still couldn't quell the pressure building up in his loins again. He wanted to hold off but he didn't know how. Instead, he thrust faster and harder into Ridania. He lasted about another minute before she broke his sanity. She let out an animalistic howl, and Rict felt her tighten around him. He couldn't hold it any longer, and kept thrusting as the waves racked across his body. Ridania fell forward, her arms unable to support her ad Rict finished, while she wailed as she continued to cum. A few seconds later, Rict pulled out, and hovered above her a moment before falling beside her. Missing the pillow, he felt the exhaustion beginning to seep into his body.

Ridania pulled the covers over them, and she draped herself across his back with her head resting in the crook, both of them still panting. It didn't take long from sleep to claim them both.

----------oOo----------

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Brann looked up at the commander. He set the last piece of equipment into the bag he was packing, finally responded.

"Aye. Can't wait any longer. Don't worry bout me. Aint no Vrykul that'll catch me." He said, grabbing his rifle. He locked the bayonet in the tip down, and pull it's release trigger taught. Grabbing a pair of pistols, he placed them in his belt.

"Sides, I'll only be scouting and maybe taking a few rubbings. I won't be goin' after any of the higher ups until the others get here." He said, slinging the pack over his shoulder. He made his way around the commander, and out of the room he'd been staying at in the inn.

"Don't ye worry bout me. Deal with them bloody scourge." And with that, he walked out of the camp into the moonlight. The commander watched as he past though the gates of the main keep, and quietly sighed to himself.

He could only hope Brann was right in being so confident.

-Oo-----oO-

Well. There you have it. My first lemon. Not too bad in my opinion. The farthest I've ever gotten in third base, ( I.E, Head.) So I had to do a little guess work. I just assumed that it feels the same either way.

Anyway, until the next chapter.

PS: Just edited this one, didn't do it for first post, was too tired. I think I found all the typos now.


	7. Mid Morning Crisis

A breeze gently stroked her cheek, causing her red hair to flutter lightly across her cheek. Melida lay in the bed, her body twisted slightly as she tossed a little. Her eyes fluttered, and she began to stir. Quietly, she turned onto her back and looked up. The room looked strangely familiar, and she remembered waking up in here before. She recalled running out of the room, and bursting onto the deck, and yet it was at that point that her memory went blank. She tried delving further, but she couldn't seem to recall anything. Sighing, she looked around, taking in her surroundings.

The room smelt funny. It had an oaken scent, with an under not of something else. Something vile. Sighing again, she removed her covers and stood up. Moving to a mirror hanging on the wall, she noticed several boxes with bright red crosses on them. No sure what they meant, she gently pried the lid off one of them, and found a multitude of potions stacked neatly inside. She felt nausea beginning to come on, but she resisted it. Reaching in, she pulled out of the potions. It was blood red, but had a translucent quality to it as well. Popping the cork, she took a whiff. It smelt of herbs, and alcohol. Curiosity began to bite at the back of her mind. She moved to put it back, but second thoughts assaulted her.

After a minute of mixed decisions, she finally gave in, and took a sip. The nausea immediately dissipated. It tasted of Alcohol and had a foul flowery flavour underneath. However, she felt immensely better after drinking it. So she took another sip. Her neck began to tingle, and she noticed a gash in it. As she looked at it, her mind focused on it, and a tingling sensation began to build up there. She screamed in shock at first, while she watched the flesh knit itself back together. However, it didn't last long, and when it stopped, her neck didn't look much different. She eyed the potion in her hand, and forced down another mouthful this time. Nothing happened, and she turned her eyes back to the gash. Still nothing. She focused on it a little bit, and the flesh began knitting itself back together again.

She continued taking the potion until she couldn't take it any longer. Her neck looked fully healed, but there remained a nasty scar. She panted a little, the healing process a little more taxing then she'd expected. Taking a look at the potion, she tossed it out the window and replaced the lid on the box. Looking over herself and deeming the tattered clothing at least covering enough to go out in public, she made for the door. When she got there, she struggled with indecision for a while before swallowing her fear and opening it. She stepped onto the deck, and the faint smell of cooked meat clung to her nose. At this point, she realised how hungry she was, and actually buckled in pain at the hunger cramp.

Recovering, she righted herself, and looked around a little. The sun was rising just barely over the lip of the horizon, its orange glow burning into her eyes, while the moon was setting on the opposite side of the ship. Both were amazingly bright, and Melida was awed by the beauty of it. Adjusting her gaze, her nose caught the scent of something that made her stomach growl. She couldn't quite place it, but sniffed harder, trying to discern its location. After a moment, she realized it was coming from the lower deck, and she ran towards the stairs. Over the hum of the engines in the back of the boat, she could hear the slight sizzling sounds of a kitchen. She made her way through the hallways, and found a room filled with tables, and an adjoining room with a counter at one of its two entrances. A man darted out a pair of flapping doors, grabbed something off the counter and disappeared back into the room's depths.

Glancing around, Melida noted several men, all drab and exhausted looking. What appeared to be a family without a mother sat at the back, each eating from a bowl of stew she assumed. She quietly made her way up to the counter, and took a seat on a chair. After a little while the man came rushing back into the room, and he spotted her.

"Oh, great." He muttered under his breath, "Hello kido. Is there anything I can get for you." He said, reaching behind the counter and pulling up a pair of pots. Melida looked at him a moment, before answering,

"Uh, actually. Is there any food I could have?" She asked, feeling strangely rude. The man sighed. Grabbing his pot, he grumbled something about too many mouths to feed. He made his way back through the double doors, and disappeared for a moment. Melida felt she'd angered him, but before she could do anything, he popped his head back out.

"You wouldn't know how to cook by any chance would ye?" He asked, stirring a bowl of batter while waiting for her answer. The question actually made Melida feel surprisingly calmer. She grinned at him,

"Actually, I work in the Castle kitchens back in Stormwind." She said. The man looked at her a moment.

"Honest?"

Melida nodded her head. The man collapsed against the wall on her side of the doors, wiping his brow and getting a little batter in his hair. 'Thank the light." He looked her over again. "Alright, you can help me cook. You'll get breakfast out of it. Sound good?"

Melida felt strangely calm around this man, and nodded again.

"Alright well, through that door." He said, referring to the other one. Melida jumped off the stool, attracting a couple of anxious glances from nearby sailors. Not even noticing them, she rushed to the door, her hunger egging her on more then actual want. Walking through them, she saw a bunch of aprons hung against the wall. Grabbing one, she walked down the hall, and still putting it on, met up with the man.

"Eh, I see you know what your doing…" He said. Melida smiled at him. "Okay, well today's breakfast is fried dough. He said, motioning to a large stove with a flat black stone cover that had a bunch of flat pieces of batter resting on it. They sizzled as the butter helped cook them. The smell was plain, but it made her mouth water none the less. A hunger pang coursed through her, but she shoved it away.

"Great, I love pancakes." She said, reaching for one of the cooked one. A wooden spoon clacked her hand,

"Hey, you get fed when everyone else is fed. God knows I haven't eaten yet." He said. Melida glared at him, thinking that she probably would have been fed sooner if she'd not offered help. "Been here alone too, so it's bloody difficult to feed this many people. Anyway, think you can pass those out?" He said, motioning to the food she'd just tried to eat. He cast her a smug little smirk, and she glared at him.

"Fine."

Grabbing the plated, she moved into the mess hall.

"One each!" He heard him call after her. Sighing to herself, she moved as quickly as she could, passing them out. She managed to give one to almost everyone in the room. As she came across the family in the back, she tried not to notice the son's severed hand. The father was missing an eye, but both wounds hand been bandaged properly. She served them as quickly as possible, and almost ran back into the kitchen. The image of the boy trying to eat with one hand still fresh in her mind, she jumped when the cook talked to her.

"Well… That was fast." He said. Melida nodded, not really paying attention. "Alright, go start cooking those," he said motioning to the ones on the grill." Melida shook her head, and moved towards it. The cook went back to his batter, pulling down jars of powders and herbs. He ground some down and mixed it in, and sprinkled some powder in afterwards. Melida looked over from the grill.

"Is spice really that important. I mean, I don't think they really care…" She said, looking at the double doors. The cook grunted,

"These aren't spices. They're herbs and crushed up minerals to prevent scurvy."

Melida cast him a doubting look.

"Yeah, one of my cook hands didn't believe me either. He wound up killing three men before he fixed it." Melida looked a little shocked, but tried to hide it by cooking. "Don't worry bout' it." He said, "Happens more then you'd think." He said, tossing the last of the powder into the bowl. Turning it over times with a wooden spoon, he moved towards the stove. Melida quickly started scooping off the cooked ones, and he replaced them with more batter.

And so, Melida spent the next half hour rushing between tables, scooping pancakes and having small chats with the cook. Over that time period she learned that his name was Geoffrey, and that he'd been in the alliance military for several years, before becoming a chef. The ship they were on was called the sea hopper, apparently because it was the fastest ship in the alliance navy. Melida had tried to probe Geoffrey's military history, but he brushed the subject aside with surprising gentleness. The conversation hadn't revolved much around Melida, but Geoffrey chose to rectify that as they sat down at a small table in back.

"So, tell me. Is that old hag Bernice still running the Stormwind kitchens?' He asked, helping himself to a rather large plate of leftover pancakes. Finally able to eat, Melida took a similarly sized plate and sat down beside him.

"No." She said, taking a bite. The flavour was plain enough, but it did have an under note of something salty. "No, she died a few years back." She swallowed, and her hunger came rushing back in spades. Geoffrey watched amused for a dew minutes as she shovelled food into her mouth. After she'd stopped to catch her breath, Geoffrey asked his next question.

"So, if Bernice isn't around anymore… How's keeping charge of you guys?" He asked, putting some pancake into her mouth.

"Oh, well Venst is the head chef now."

Geoffrey choked. He sputtered heavily, and after a moment coughed it up. Melida had moved and was patting his back.

"Are you okay?" She asked, patting him on the back. He coughed a little, but nodded. Melida stood there, but when he reached for the glass of water he had, she felt it safe to sit back down. He drank deeply before talking,

"Venst you say? Venst Hearthglow?" He asked. Melida looked at him a little quizzically.

"Yeah… He's my father." She said.

Geoffrey almost choked again. It was water this time though, so he recovered almost immediately. Melida looked a little confused. While the conversation had stopped, and Geoffrey coughed, the thought of Rict slid across her mind. Hadn't she seen him on this boat? No, she must have dreamt it.

"You. You're his daughter?" He asked, his face flushed red. She smiled and nodded.

"Why. You look more then a little surprised." She said, thinking this could be a good moment to probe him for information. She sat forward, expectantly.

"Yeah, well, I served with your father." He said. She looked at him interested,

"Oh? And where did you guys serve?" She asked, hoping he might slip up this time. To her dismay, he dodged the question,

"Never mind that. How's your mother doing?" He asked. "I remember seeing your brother Check, but I haven't seen Venst since he told me about his son." He went on.

Melida looked away for a moment before swallowing. She looked up,

"My mother died giving birth to me." She said. Geoffrey looked at her horror struck. His stare went blank for a moment, then,

"Damn. Never would have though Vanessa would go out that way." He said quietly. Melida looked at him then said,

"Yeah… Dad said she didn't want to be- Wait. Vanessa?" She said, looking at him confused.

"Your mother." He said, a little confused that she didn't know this. Melida looked at him, her eyes a little bit wide.

"My mother's name was Armena. Vanessa is Check's mom." She said, seeing if eating would help put the uncomfortable edge off the conversation. Surprisingly, it did.

"Oh, so, what about Vanessa?" He asked. Melida shook her head, and he sighed. He put another piece of pancake into his mouth, chewing slowly. After a moment, he looked at her with a curious expression, and asked, "Damn… I never figured she'd go o- Wait, how did Vanessa die?"

Melida paled a little. She'd heard of the devastating effects the plague had on the body. Her father had told her Vanessa had a mild case, but it was still enough to kill her. Melida contemplated her answer before finishing the food she was chewing. "Sickness. She was sick, and dad couldn't find a cure…"

Geoffrey nodded quietly. He didn't touch his food anymore, and Melida hadn't felt inclined to either. The two sat in silence, neither making a move towards contributing to the conversation. After what seemed like forever, Melida chose to thin the tension by changing the subject.

"So uh… How come your working down here alone?" She asked, placing an uneaten pancake back onto the big plate. Geoffrey snorted,

"What kind of question is that? I'm alone because they're dead. Couldn't you use your eyes? There's no way you'd be here if you didn't see the attack." He said, shovelling another bite into his mouth. Melida was a little confused. She could remember muffled screams, and an unbearable smell, but an attack? She tried to dig deeper into her memory as Geoffrey continued speaking.

"Figured you'd know…" She dug deeper, combing her brain, trying to bring something to the surface. All she got were hazy black moments.

"One of em' was from your kitchen too…" Her eyes had glazed slightly from the deep thought, but she tried to listen to him. Still only catching bits of what he was saying, she tried one last time at trying to remember what had happened.

"I think Keith was his name…" Melida's eyes snapped forward at the name. The image of Keith's torn face came flooding full force to the center of her mind. Before Geoffrey could stop her, she'd fallen off her chair, screaming frantically. Several words were incomprehensible, but he made out the names of her Father, mother, brother and… Didn't an elf by the Name of Rict come in earlier?

----------oOo----------

Maiev turned sharply in her bed, her adjustment made all the more sharp by the rocking of the boat. She was sweating again, the sheets damp from her body. She groaned in her sleep, and whispered more then once, "No- no more." She rolled, her body trying to run away from whatever was in her nightmare. She clutched at her waist,

"S-stop!" She cried out feebly, still asleep. She rocked with the waves for a while longer before crying out, "I beg yo-" She couldn't finish what she was saying, because she snapped awake mid way through the sentence. She gazed around the room frantically, like a frightened child, looking for some hidden sound. It wasn't for a time that she realised she was alone.

Lifting the sheets, she gazed at a long scar running down the inside of her right thigh, the purplish skin turned a sickly shade of purplish green. She looked at it, and tried to remain calm. It looked greener then usual. Could he have… No, it was a dream. She tried reassuring herself with that fact, but the lingering feeling of fear clung to her. Slowly, she sank into the pillow of he bed, and tried to calm her heart as the waves rocked the boat from side to side.

Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she looked at the moon and realised that it had been too long since she'd done just that. A single tear slid down her cheek as it sunk beneath the waves, calling the sun up in its wake.

----------oOo----------

Rict was beginning to see a pattern. This was now the third day that he'd woken up to a headache, and the third day he couldn't understand why. Sitting up, he squinted as the sun shined through the window, blinding him. He covered his eyes with an arm, and noticed the form next to him. _Oh yeah…_ He thought, shifting a little. Ridania began to stir a little, then flopped onto her stomach, seemingly undisturbed. Rict sighed. Last night had been great, but he didn't want that kind of relationship with her. Still, he wouldn't have minded going again…

_No. I need to go see Melida._ He thought, steeling himself. He moved to get up when he felt a small tug. Looking down, he realised Ridania had latched onto his right arm in her sleep. He tugged a little bit, but she didn't seem to want to let go. Sitting back against the pillows, he tried to think of a way out. Luckily, or unluckily enough, one presented itself.

"Thinking of chewing your arm off?" Ridania murmured. Her voice startled Rict, and his left arm flapped around in surprise. He knocked over a brown satchel on a bedside drawer, spilling part of its contents. Out came a metal glove, much too big for Ridania, a pair of tufts of hair, one blonde, the other a sickly pale version of the first, and a multitude of small pink vials. Rict swore, and mumbled something about being sorry as he pulled himself free of her grip and began picking up the objects. He glanced at the hairs as he placed them back into the satchel. Ridania must have heard the apology because,

"Are any of the vials broken?" She asked. Rict shook his head, to which she responded, "Good, pass me one and put the others back… please." She said, rising sleepily from the bed. The cover fell back revealing her breasts. They had a little more hang to them now then before, but still seemed pretty pert to Rict. They looked a little smaller too… Rict shook his head and began piling the vials. He passed one to Ridania, who held onto it for a few moment, grinning at Rict. She eyed the vial then said,

"Hey. If you want to go again, I'm game. And by the looks of it… So are you." She said, slinking towards him through the sheets. Rict pulled away a little, and realised looking at her had set off a growing concern in his groin. (_**Oh ho ho! Euphemisms abound**_!) Before his eyes, her breast's hang diminished, and they grew ever so slightly. Putting the last few vials in the bag,

"How did you… I mean when did…" He asked, sputtering a little. He winced as his headache to a sharp stab at the back of his eye. Placing one hand against his left eye, he gritted his teeth in pain. Seemingly not noticing, Ridania continued,

"Well, let's just say there are some advantages to being a druid." She said, running her hand through her hair. It was tousled and messed up, and she began combing it with her fingers to straighten it out. "Oh, don't tell me you can't hold your drink? Had a few too many eh, Brighteyes?" She said grinning at him. Rict glared back at her, but didn't say anything. Ridania slinked a little further if that was even possible. "So?" She asked a second time.

Rict's mind was torn. Part of him knew he should go looking for Melida, but the other half wanted to stay here. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and deciding his course of action.

"Sorry, but I really need to go find Melida." He said, rising from his crouched position on the floor. Ridania grinned and licked her lips. Her hand went in motion, and Rict wondered what she was doing when he felt a cool sensation on his member.

"You sure?" She asked, ever so sweetly. Rict looked at her, but couldn't conceal a grin.

Twenty minutes later, Rict was moving towards the door when Ridania spoke up.

"Hold on Brighteyes, maybe you'd like to stay here a little longer…" She said, her mischievous expression gone as she began to dress.

"No, now I really need to go looking for Melida. She's probably alone and scared in the sick bay, and that's if she even stayed there. For all we know-"

Ridania piped up, pulling her leather tunic other a clean pale green under tunic. "That's great and all but-"

"I can't stay any longer…" He said, moving towards the door.

"That's fine and all but-"

"WHAT?!?"

"Pants dear. You might want to cover up. If she isn't scared already well, you'll definitely have her tearing off in fright." She giggled at him, pulling on her pale brown leather pants. She'd changed her undergarments to another set of Darnassian silk panties and bra, these ones a pale green. Grinning, she tossed Rict his tattered robes. "You wouldn't happen to have any others around would you? These are kind of… Ruined." She finished.

Rict pulled them over his boxers, "No, my luggage got knocked over the rail and all my clothes where-" He cut off for a second. He'd just remembered the robes Jaina gave him. Surely it wouldn't matter if he wore them until he found the owner? Or at least until he got some new robes. "Actually, I have a pair in my room. Come on." He said, slipping into his boots.

"Hey! What makes you think I'm coming with you?" She asked, leaning forward a little with her hands on her hips, trying ever so slightly to look imposing. Rict just grinned at her,

"What else are you going to do?" He asked, moving out the door. Ridania looked towards the ceiling, shrugged and then proceeded to follow him. She still had the pink vial in her hands, and as the two went through the ships hallways, she downed it. Unable to contain his curiosity, Rict asked, "What on Azeroth is that anyway?"

Ridania swallowed deeply before answering. "Oh, well, I know a thing or two about Alchemy." She said, putting the vial into a small bag she had slung over her shoulder. She carried her staff in her left hand, but she used that arm to wipe her mouth.

"That's great, but it doesn't answer my question. What did you just drink." He asked again, going round a corner. Ridania laughed at that,

"Oh, its just a contraceptive."

"A what?" He asked, going around the last corner.

"Let's just say you don't need to worry about me having kids." She said, winking at him. Rict literally stopped mid stride. It had never occurred to him that he could have gotten her pregnant, and now that he thought about it, the idea appealed and terrified him all at once. He knew night elves had a low pregnancy rate, but still… His mind wandered through his memories, and a cold shock came over him as he remembered how many vials she had.

"Hey, earth to Rict. I said which one of these rooms is yours." Ridania said, tapping her foot a little impatiently. Rict'thiel shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He turned to a door on his right, recognising the number, and opened the one beside it.

"This one. Hold on here, I'll be right back." He stepped into the room, and heard the door click behind him. Glancing back he saw that Ridania had followed him into the room. Her back to the wall, she looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "You can wait outside you know." He said, pulling the satchel he brought onto the ship open. He felt gloved hands slide down his back,

"Oh I'm fine right here."

----------oOo----------

Another Vrykul patrol passed by the corridor. Not particularly alert, they didn't notice the crouched form skulking in the coven beside a pillar and the high sloping walls of the keep. They continued on their way, a single worg taking a lingering look at the hall they'd just crossed before being tugged along by the Vrykul directing it.

Brann breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment he'd thought the worg had sniffed him out, but it hadn't and so he continued on his way. He'd been sneaking through the keep for hours, and he'd overheard a pair of Vrykul discussing a map room used by the keep strategist. He'd been trying to get there for a while now, and he was finally almost there. He pulled on a pair of black gloves, and admired them a moment. Magni's daughter had made them for him before she'd disappeared. The cloth was woven to such an extent that they provided amazing traction, and with enough upper body strength, would allow the wearer to climb almost any surface.

He grabbed the pillar, and silently shimmied his way up to the rafters supporting the ceiling. They were made of wood, but were impeccably solid. For all their cannibalism and insanity, the Vrykul built impressively sturdy structures. He wove his way through the supports, and only stopped for another passing patrol. He saw the glass of the window that was situated at the top of the doors into the map room. After the patrol left, he covered the final distance to the window. Again checking that no one was around, he slid a diamond edged knife from his side. This one was a gift from Muradin, forged from the metal found near his camp in the Storm peaks. Brann whispered an incantation, and the blade glowed for a fraction of a second before looking again. The only difference was the sharp sheen of the blade's edge.

He traced a circle in the glass, stopping only to attach an abnormally large snail to the surface of the glass. He finished the circle, and then pulled gently on the snail's shell, pulling the piece of glass towards him. He placed the glass snugly in the rafter, removing the snail and putting it make in its small tin in his pack. The glass had been tinted, but Brann had still been able to discern some movement in the room. Poking his head through, he quickly tucked it back in, spotting a patrol making its way quickly through the room. Brann waited for another patrol, trying to gauge how much time he could spend in that room before he had to leave. Seven minutes went by, and Brann could only chuckle to himself as the next patrol entered, it too hurrying past through the room. They seemed unnerved by something, and Brann felt it too. Something evil frequented this room. Often too. As the passed through the chamber, shutting the door behind them, Brann rubbed his hands together, and moved out the window. This was going to hurt.

He grabbed the edge of the thick glass in the window, and slowly slid down the wall, using all his upper body strength to keep him pressed against the smooth stone. He could feel the heat of the friction burning his hands, and he let go when he was a few feet off the floor. Regain his posture as he thudded to the ground, Brann didn't waste time. Grabbing a gnomish invention he'd tinkered with, Brann set to work photographing the various maps on the large table. The smell of burnt parchment wafted up to his nose, and quickly began removing the burned photographs from the camera's load out. He smiled at himself. He needed to make some more of these. The magic was really tricky, and capturing the right fire essence was difficult, but it was worth it.

He noticed a pile of scrolls, bound in what appeared to be a cord made of skin, sitting on the table. He pulled one of them out, and read it. It was various invasion orders. Seems the Vrykul were done bidding their time in their keep. Brann didn't finish reading it, instead pocketing it and trying the bunch of scrolls back up. He grabbed some of the maps on the table too, the ones that had duplicates, and folded them up into his pack as well. He began moving to the wall he'd climbed down when something caught his eye. The carvings etched into the sides of the walls seemed to depict the Vrykul battling some small enemy. Judging from the wounded on both sides, Brann figured the adversary must have been pretty powerful. He moved closer and took a better look. What he saw made him gasp.

They appeared to be dwarves. Brann didn't know of any dwarves that originated in Northrend, so this intrigued him. He pulled out the camera and moved to take a picture, when he noticed he was out of the enchanted parchment. Sighing, he stuffed it away and pulled out a large sheet of parchment and a rubbing stone. He set to work furiously, the rubbing noise reverberating quietly around the room. The sound had a hypnotic effect on Brann, but he shook his head to clear his muddled thoughts and rubbing harder. He finished one half of the carving, and set to work on the other. The smell of the rubbing stone grinding against his parchment wafted up to his nose, no too dissimilar to the smell created by his camera. He was almost done when he felt a warm breeze against his neck. He shifted his pack. Besides being magically enchanted to resist water and humidity, it had a small mirror that Brann peaked into. Standing directly behind him was a dark grey worg, its mouth open, saliva dripping from it fangs.

It lunged forward, and Brann silently regretted not leaving right away. He turned and flopped onto his left side, grabbing one of the pistols at his waist. The Worg lunged at him, its mouth clamping over Brann's arm and gun. Brann stuffed his hand down the beast's throat, and on reflex, it gagged. It mouth opened, and Brann fired a single round up into its head. The beast twitched, then fell off him. Brann ripped his arm out, and began running for the wall he'd entered. He took a moment mid stride to look at his arm, and breathed in relief as he saw that the chain mail was dented, but otherwise unharmed. He'd need to thank his brother later. Again…

He jumped to the wall, and an arrow thudded in where he'd been a second ago. Brann swore. He wouldn't be able to climb if he was under fire. As he hit the wall, he pushed off it with his feet. In mid air he holstered his pistol and jammed the rubbed parchment into his pack. In the same fluid motion, he pulled out his favourite weapon. A clockwork rifle of Goblin design, it fed ammunition into the rifle as he fired, removing the problem of having to waste time reloading. It wasn't particularly quick about it, but it kept his hands free.

He tucked into a roll as he hit the ground, coming up in a crouch. He quickly took a pot shot at the Vrykul archer that had appeared by the door. Tagging the man in his left arm, he watched it go limped before sliding out the bayonet on his rifle. A second vrykul was coming at him, a large crudely forged sword sweeping down in an arc, aimed to cleave him in two. Brann jumped forward, moving around the blade as it followed its trajectory, cleaving into the floor where he'd just been. Brann found himself on his attacked left, and quickly plunged his bayonet into the man's stomach as he recovered from his swipe. As the bayonet entered, Brann heard the chime signalling that another round had been loaded into his rifle. In a single motion, he pulled the rifle out and rolled to the side, stopping and taking a shot at the Vrykul's exposed head. Brann didn't miss point blank shots.

Another arrow came whizzing in and buried itself into the side of Brann's pack. He looked up to see the Vrykul swear and begin notching another arrow. Brann began running to the table for cover, when he heard that familiar chime again. Mid step he planted his foot into the ground, falling to his back and raising the barrel. An arrow plunked into the ground where he'd been running. The Vrykul saw him raising the barrel and dived to the side. Brann compensated and sunk a shot into the Vrykul neck. The man sputtered on the floor a little, blood pouring out all over. Brann ran past him, stopping only to put him out of his misery. This cost him his chance to make a stealthy escape. Another patrol came through the door, and Brann swore as he spotted a woman among them. The witch didn't hesitate; her arms already flying into the motions for a spell.

Brann bolted out the door. He ran as fast as he legs would carry him, and then some. He turned to go down one corridor, then saw some Vrykuls in it and kept running. Mercifully, they weren't aware of his presence until the other patrol came charging past. Brann skidded around a turn and saw his chance. Grabbing the rope and hook attached to his waist, he swung it out and hooked it onto the rafters above what appeared to be a disposal shaft. He couldn't see the bottom, but he jumped out anyway, and began shimmying down the rope.

He hadn't gotten ten feet when a blade came out, severing the rope he was holding onto. The last thing Brann saw as he plummeted down was the face of a peculiar Vrykul, as well as two arrows whizzing in where he'd been moments ago.

----------oOo----------

Maiev sat quietly in the washtub. Her bedroom and Rict's shared a bathroom, and through a series of clever pipes and valves, one could get cold water to fill the basin. She hadn't been able to fall back asleep after she'd woken up. She traced a line over the scar under left tit. It wasn't particularly long, but this one bothered her the most because it was the most visible. It slid its way from the bottom of her handful-sized breast down the side of her body, to rest right before her undergarment line. The healers said if she bathed in a moon well, the scars would seemingly vanish. Maiev still hadn't gotten a chance to do just that.

She remembered him quietly. They way he struck her if she refused, they way he brought himself roughly, they way he scarred her for pleasure. She shuddered involuntarily, and sighed. That was over, and she needed to stop thinking about it, but whenever she saw those scars the memories came flooding back. She really needed to find a moon well. Soon.

----------oOo----------

Ridania and Rict immerged from his room a good fifteen minutes later. Ridania smirked to herself. She'd been with a lot of men. More then was probably considered healthy. But transforming into animals all the time had a certain effect on ones libido, especially in spring. Rict'thiel had been a virgin, that much she could tell. He'd tried to stop her at first, but the new ones always come back for more. Still though, there was something about him. She couldn't quite place it, only that she'd experienced it before.

She's originally thought she'd packed too many vials when she'd set off, but seeing as she intended to follow Rict around a little longer, she figured maybe she hadn't. The only part she was regretting was the cramps she'd get in a couple of hours. Killing kids always came with its price, she reminded herself. She needed to look at the formula for that potion when she got a chance. Maybe try and make the cramps at least a little less painful.

Rict followed behind her, and the two wove their way through the ships metal and wood hallways, trying to find the sickbay. Rict was adjusting the robes he was wearing. Apparently they weren't his, but they seemed to fit him like a glove. The dark purple when brilliantly with his hair, and the silver belt clashed well with the robe. The jewels woven in at some places seemed a little over done, but they went well with it none the less. It suited him too, what with him being a fire mage.

Ridania had a little mental short step for a moment. She'd tried to stay away from fire mages ever since… _Must go there Rida._ She thought to herself. Instead, she began to listen to Rict who'd been talking for a few seconds.

"Hey, you know you said there were certain perks to being a druid. If I learnt druidic magic, could I…" He asked, blushing a little and trying to laugh away his unease. They went around another corner.

"He he, sorry Brighteyes. You're not the first to ask that. Only a few people can do it, and only my instructor and I are the ones that I'm aware of who can. I'm sure there are others, I just haven't met them. "Besides, you couldn't learn druidic magic anyway. You need night elfin blood for that. Sorry kiddo." She said, swinging her hip to the side and bashing Rict into the wall. She watched in amusement as his feet literally left the ground. She'd morphed the muscles in her legs when he wasn't looking, and now she shifted back. Rict just glared at her.

"Yeah, like I haven't been hurt enough yet…" He said, wiggling two fingers as they walked.

"Oh well, by all means, if your hips fall off, I'll put those back on too." She snickered. Rict's frown got deeper. Instead of looking at him, Ridania pulled hr gloves on a little tighter. Her staff was slung over her back, secured in its strap. For someone who's just lost his virginity, Rict was taking the day after pretty well. Most guys she met for a one night stand became either clingy, or nonchalant, but Rict hadn't really changed much. _Maybe he wasn't a virgin…_ She thought. Rict word's woke her form her thoughts.

"You said your instructor could do it too." He said, adjusting the skirt of his robe. "Who is it that taught you druidism?" He said, as they went around another corner. Ridania glanced up and saw the sign leading to the lower deck. The sickbay was directly linked from there. She didn't feel comfortable talking about where she'd learnt her craft, but she answered regardless.

"Ah well, she was a good druid. Not very old either before she died. I think I was the last student she ever taught." Ridania said. She was deliberately forgetting the name, and Rict called her out on it.

"That's all great, but do you have a name?" He said, pulling on his sleeve. Ridania ignored him, ploughing on.

"She taught me how to do semi transformation, which is what you saw. Handy if you want some of the animal's attributes without the hair. Hard to maintain though."

"Ridania. Focus. Who was your teacher?" He asked again. Ridania cast a look to the ground. He didn't take a hint did he?

"She was an amazing druid really. Never thought she would ever die. Always said the way I acted, she'd out live me. Guess I won that argument…" She said, tugging uncomfortably on the edge of her glove. Sighing, she finally answered his question. "And her name Was Armena. Armena Starglow, not stop asking."

Rict paused somewhat mid-step, then continued walking. Ridania gave him a curios look. He'd seemingly gone all rigid when she'd told him her teachers name.

"I've heard that name before… I think. Guh, where have I heard that…" He said, giving his head a little shake. They stepped into the bright light of the deck, blinded momentarily by the shift in light spectrum. Ridania actually gave out a small hiss as her eyes adjusted. Taking a moment to orient themselves, they found the door to the sickbay slightly ajar. Ridania wondered if the child could have left the room, but didn't toy with the notion long. As they entered, they were greeted by an empty room. Rict swore under his breath, but put in.

"Well, if she isn't here, where could she be?" She asked. Rict shook his head, obviously having no idea. "She probably went looking for food. She didn't get anything from me the whole time she was here, and that was two days ago. We should check the kitchens." She said, moving out the door again. Rict nodded, silently appreciative of her coming along.

They quickly made they're way to the mess hall, but hadn't gotten halfway across the deck when they found their quarry. The chef they'd met the previous night was carrying Melida in his arms, towards them.

"Out of the way elf. This one needs the sickbay n-" He stopped. Turning a studying eye over Rict, he continued, "Yer' the one named Rict eh?" He said, continuing towards the sickbay. Rict nodded.

"Eh well, ye better come with me. This one here, Melida's her name, she went into a screaming fit after I mentioned the battle on the ship a few days back. Fell on the floor screaming and yelling ou' names. Yer's among them." He spoke, gruffly opening the door to the sick bay. He placed her on the nearest bed. Ridania moved in closer, and cast some inaudible spell. Green light rippled joyfully out of her right hand, pouring into Melida's head. The light continued to flow in for over a minute before Melida's eyes snapped open sleepily.

"Wha- where am I? Who are- Rict!" She exclaimed, trying to lean up in the bed. Ridania firmly pushed her back down.

"Quiet child. What do you remember from a little while ago?" She said, tracing a finger over the scar on Melida's neck. It faded even more, now barely visible.

"I- I uh… I woke up and I was helping Geoffrey serve food. Then we were eating in the kitchens and… and-" Geoffrey made a grunting noise, indicating that as the moment of her fit. "I don't remember anything passed that." Ridania looked at her, then Geoffrey.

"Repressive memory. At least I think that's what it is." She turned back to Melida, "What is your name child?" Ridania knew the answer,

"Melida Hearthglow." Melida said, trying to sit up again.

"What are your parents names?" She asked. This time she didn't know the answer, and gasped when Melida responded.

"Venst Hearthflame and Armena Starglow." She said. Ridania grip softened, and she sat back a little. A single tear welled up in her left eye, and it slid down her cheek. "Why? What's wrong?" Melida asked, suddenly afraid.

"No- nothing. I just knew your mother." Ridania sniffed, wiping the tear from her face. She turned to the Rict and Geoffrey, "Would you two mind waiting outside, I- I need to discuss something with Melida."

Rict nodded slowly, exiting the room. The burly chef took one last glancing look at Melida, then followed suite.

----------oOo----------

Rict paced the door outside the sickbay, while Geoffrey leaned back against the wall. The ship swayed lazily, and Rict listened to the bustle of the crew working the sails. The engine was running full speed too, but it had been damaged in the attack, so they compensated for the lack of speed with wind power. Geoffrey looked at them too, then cast a look at the sun over head. It was roughly mid morning by now, and Ridania and Melida had been in there for more then an hour. Finally,

"Well, I don't know about you, but I aint got time to waste here. Lemme know how she turns out when ye come down for some food." And with that, he rose from his spot and began walking away. He hadn't gotten five steps when the was a soft click, and Ridania exited the room. There was a smug look of satisfaction on her face.

"What was that all about?" Rict piped up. Ridania look at him, grinned, then opened the door again. Melida slid out this time, seemingly happier then Rict had ever seen her, and in her hand, was the small flower pot from the window sill. She looked up at Ridania, who nodded, then turned her gaze back to Rict and an Intrigued Geoffrey.

Her eyes flashed amber, her hair's sheen lightening, and her hair moved slightly, revealing her ears. They seemed more pointed. No one noticed these things though. Their attention was focused solely on the plant in her hand, as her hands had taken on a pale green light, and the plant began to grow.

There was silence as the plant grew, expanding out, over the sides of the small pot, eventually reaching the floor. Finally, Ridania took the pot from the child, and gave the other two one last smirk.

----------oOo----------

The man shifted in his chair, glancing around at the others seated around the table. The commanding officer's quarters weren't anywhere near as luxurious as one might think, with a desk and cot in one corner, the large table dominating the room. Said officer paced behind the desk, his hand in his chin, seemingly locked deep in thought. After a moment, he looked up,

"Is Smiths back yet?" He asked, stopping his pace and looking expectantly at the others around the table. Various lieutenants and captains glanced around the room, looking for the second lieutenant. One spoke up, "No Sir. It seems he hasn't been able to get back from the cliff side camp."

"Shit… Well, we've waited long enough. Brann, explain to these men why we need to either pull out and shore up the main base or evacuate the basin." He said through gritted teeth. Brann walked up, still thoroughly water logged from his trip down the disposal chute.

"Oh come now, It can't be that bad." Said a man, his captains stripes glinting a little on his armour. Brann sighed, pulling out the map he'd found in the middle of the table.

"Oh its bad… Very, very Bad."

Oo-------------oO

Well, there's chapter 6 for you. Most people are wondering where the hell this is going, but if you look back at chapter 1, you'll notice that they are currently heading to Valgarde, to infiltrate the keep and assassinate several important members of the Vrykul military. (I.e. Instance run, though not quite.)

Melida is stuck on board the ship, as no one knows if Stormwind fended off the attack, and they won't receive word while their at sea. It would be too dangerous for a gryphon's rider to fly that far out. More characters are going to be introduced, gradually. I like a slow build personally, and I'm using the ship ride as a method to characterize the protagonists.


	8. Midday Hustle

Smiling contentedly, Yazmina settled down to tend the days wounded. Humming to herself, she couldn't help but find joy if the knowledge that only one soldier stationed in Valgarde was in need of her skills this evening. Channelling the minute amount of energy required, she bathed the soldier's gashed side in holy light, and smiled as the flesh began to knit itself back together. Healings can be difficult to watch when you're new to the practice, but after a while, the sight of the wounds repairing themselves brings a strange sense of comfort, despite the unnerving sight of it.

Panting a little from the sudden loss in energy, she reclined, and began sopping away the blood that leaked from the wound; she readied herself to continue with the healing. She'd need to replace the blood he'd lost, and then finish knitting up the gash in his side. Glad she'd taken the time in her past to learn the art of first aid, she began to sew the cut flesh together. While not as effective as traditional healing, when coupled with it, it increased the effects of the actual healing magic, by removing the need to re-arrange the flesh so that it could re-grow itself. Many victims of wounds had been left horribly scarred, but alive, from the excess tissue re-grown in the healing process. By sowing the wound back together, she removed the danger of this happening.

She sighed to herself. Her petition to have first aid training made mandatory in all priest training had again been denied. The elders still thought her young and rash, but she was aspiring. Although old by human standards, fifty six was still fairly young by Draenei standards. Her instructors had made that notion particularly clear when they'd joined the alliance, which was why she still retained the rank of Anchorite. One day, however, she would rise above that title, and would be able to change the way the priesthood trained their faithful.

Concentrating, she began channelling energy into the soldier's bone marrow, forcing it to create new blood at an extremely accelerated rate. A little seeped out between the stitches she'd placed in his skin, and she stopped to soak that up with her rag. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on her brow, though they were not particularly un-welcome. The Howling Fjord, while not nearly as cold as other regions of Northrend, still had a chilling bite to its weather. Not enough to kill you if you slept un-protected at night, but still enough to gnaw at you, and chill you to your core if you didn't warm up. The healing was causing her body to perspire, and she welcomed the heat it brought.

She continued to create new blood for several minutes, moving slowly until the colour began to return to the man's cheeks. This was another thing she meant to revolutionize. Modern priests were taught to heal quickly and many. This was useful in situations where one couldn't take time to do it properly, but many priests neglected taking time when it came to healing. The patients lived all the same, but some retained serious injuries cause by hasty healings. This was another thing Yazmina vowed to change when she had the chance. Although her ascension through the ranks of priestesses was slowed by her past, she was certain that if she kept faith, she'd eventually be able to make the changes she wished for.

Sitting back, she wiped the sweat from her brow, panting lightly. Blood was the hardest part of the healing, especially considering that you couldn't push a patient's bone marrow to hard, or it would decay rapidly. A little more blood had seeped through the stitches she'd tied into the man's side. She hadn't taken her time with the stitches, as they were going to come out after she'd finished healing him anyway.

She took a rather long drink from a flask of water, pausing only to gulp for air. When she'd finished, she turned her attention back to healing the patient. The final stage of the healing went rather quickly, and she finished a short two minutes later. It was as she was removing the stitches from his skin that she noticed the shadow creeping up behind her, and the soft clink of metal armour. She ignored him a moment, opting to finish removing the stitches instead.

"We'll be moving out soon." He said, leaning against one of the bunk beds that lined the walls of the room. She nodded her head, pulling the last stitch out. She wiped her hands on the last white patch of the cloth she'd been using to sop up the blood, and then turned to regard him. "You're certain you don't wish to come with us?" He asked, shifting his back, the golden sword strapped to it glinting in the lantern light.

She hesitated a moment. His presence was a little unnerving, but she swallowed her uneasiness. Regardless of the gentle aura of power emanating off him, he was still human. "I- I feel that perhaps I will be needed a little longer here. The commander has mentioned an impending attack, and I'm sure there will be some wounded that will need he- healing." She said, rising and placing the bloodied rag into a wooden crate with several others just like it.

He sighed, nodding his head. "Yes, I've heard of the commander's muttering's. However, the most recent dispatch from the Argent Vanguard was rather dire. We need to move on. However, if you do change your mind…" He said, shifting his weight and rising from the bed post, "We can always use another priestess." He said, smiling at her. Yazmina hesitated again, almost considering his offer. The air around him seemed a little brighter then the rest of the room's, and she was about to answer when the patient next to her coughed. She smiled at him,

"If Valgarde is going to be attacked, and you're paladin's aren't here, then they'll definitely need me around to deal with the wounded." She said, picking up her first aid equipment and tucking it back into the black bag she carried it in. Tirion watched her do it, and grinned,

"Yes well, when you can, we of the Crusade would appreciate it if you could journey up to the Vanguard. Many of our healer's could benefit from your techniques." He said, moving towards the door a little. Yazmina nodded, a strange feeling of elation coursing through her. She'd be able to teach others her new healing techniques. She bowed her head,

"Of course lord Fordring. If things are calm here for the next few days, I'll requisition a griffin and journey there as quickly as I can." She said, raising her head again. Tirion was gone, however the soft clink of his armour could be heard as he made his way out of the clinic.

Yazmina sighed to herself, and made a mental note to start writing a manual to the basics of combining first aid training with healing.

----------oOo----------

Ingvar raised his hand again, swinging it down with enough force to dent a tree. It struck the smaller Vrykul squarely in the jaw, sending him flying. The smaller Vrykul struggled back to its feet, the glare of defiance a little less bright in his eyes then before. Ingvar struck him again, sending him flying to the right several feet. This time the smaller vrykul tried scrambling to his feet, but his muscles failed him.

"Had enough yet pup?" Ingvar sneered, the contempt ringing through every word he spoke. "You don't think that just because you're Svala's son that you can escape punishment?" He bellowed, kicking out with his leg. The blow sent the boy flying, causing hi to land on his side. He managed to rise to all fours, and glared at Ingvar, hatred burning in his eyes. "Don't you agree, Svala? Does your son not deserve punishment for his actions?" He asked, laughing while glancing over the Vrykul woman. A look of disgust was evident on her face.

"He is no son of mine." She said, her voice taught with anger. At this, the boy laughed, and promptly received another kick, this one catching him in the chest. He was sent soaring through the air, landing on his back. He gasped in pain, but struggled to regain his posture regardless. When he managed to regain his breath, he laughed again. Faster then the eye could follow, Svala was above him, glaring into his face, "You think this funny? You think letting a spy go is funny?" She yelled, he fair skin taking on a deep colour, any signs of beauty now gone. A blast of dark energy sent the Vrykul flying. He slammed face first into the side of the wall, and fell back, tears sliding down his face from the impact. His nose was broken.

Ingvar handed Svala a whip. The boy wiped his eyes, and then looked up contemptibly at his mother. Despite the broken nose, the sneer on his face was evident. "And ih' ah saih' ah didn'h leh' him go?" He said, wiping the blood from his face. He took a moment, and snapped the bone in his nose back into place. Where blood had been staunched moment before, it now began to flow freely.

"LIES!" She screamed, her voice torn with rage. The whip lashed out, and struck the boy in the chest. The boy screamed in pain, but his voice was no longer distorted by his broken nose. A second blow sent him to the ground, and he clutched at the ripped flesh. Svala seemed to stop for a moment, looking distant, "I had such hopes for you Serkas. I should have known you wouldn't amount to anything more then scum." She said, he voice tight again.

Serkas grinned up at her, "Guess you shouldn't have fucked that prisoner then eh?" He said, laughing as he finished. He'd barely begun to laugh when the whip struck him in the jaw. He ignored it, "Guess having a human around was too much for you?" The whip struck him again, this time in the side of his head. "Poor Svala can't control her body or her temp-" The whip struck him again, in the same spot. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, the blood from his gashes leaking onto the stone floor.

Svala stopped a moment, and for a split second looked remorseful. However, Ingvar moved back into her field of vision, and the look of rage returned to her face. She turned and walked out the door, her voice trailing behind her, "Lock him in the holding cell in my chamber." Ingvar nodded quietly, a minuscule look of awe on his face.

----------oOo----------

Varian turned to the Draenei ambassador, muttering something about the farm lands surrounding Stormwind, when a guard came into his audience chamber. Before Varian could address the interruption, the man saluted and spoke, "I- I'm sorry for the intrusion my lord. There is a night elf here to see you. She says it urge-" He stumbled as the door open, a slender night elf walking in. She glanced at the guard, and helped his regain his feet. Varian stared on, a slightly bemused, if anything, look on his face. The night elf came and bowed before him, and began to speak,

"Her lady Tyrande humbly asks apologies in the delay of her answer to your summons. A group of storms grounded our ships in our harbour, and she was only just able to send me to represent her." She said raising her head. Varian looked down at her, his expression still un-readable.

"And you might you be?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest. The Draenei beside him looked equally confused, but kept quiet. The night elf looked into his eyes, unblinking,

"I am Shandris Feathermoon, surrogate daughter to her lady Tyrande. I was sent in response to your summons for aid in a raid upon the Vrykul leaders based in Valgarde. Again, I apologise for my lateness." She said, rising to her feet. Her expression turned from determination to slightly confused when Varian raised an eyebrow, a curious expression now upon his own features.

"I see. And what of lady Shadowsong. I assume she made it out to sea before you?" He said, shifting in his chair, while drumming the fingers of his right hand on the armrest of his throne. His look of bemused interested increased when Shandris took a step back.

"Maiev was here?" She asked, trying to erase the shocked look from her face, and failing miserably.

"Of course. She came in response to my summons. I assume her lady Tyrande did not tell you she was sending you both?" He said, leaning a little further back in his chair.

"Us both? That bitch is a traitor to the night elf nation!" She said, barely controlling the anger in her voice. If at all possible, Varian eyebrow arched a little higher. "When did she get here? Where is she? I'll execute her myself!" She said, her voice rising.

Varian looked at her quizzically. "I'm sorry my lady Shandris, but was it not Maiev who helped kill Illidan?" He asked. Shandris stared up at him,

"That makes no difference. She is a traitor! She attacked our lady Tyrande! She endangered the life of lord Malfurion!" She yelled, no longer controlling the anger in her voice. She swore to herself in her mind, she'd never been one for politics. Varian chuckled at her, enjoying her frantic behaviour. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again,

"So, you're telling me that Tyrande didn't send Maiev when I requested help? She sent you, and Maiev simply showed up out of nowhere and had knowledge of the request?" he said, speculatively. Shandris swore under her breath,

"The bitch was the leader of the watchers. I wouldn't be surprised if one of the watcher still loyal to her tipped her off." She said through gritted teeth. Varian nodded, and Shandris began to pace quickly in front of his throne. The Draenei ambassador looked on, his expression unreadable. He cleared his throat and spoke,

"And why would lady Shadowsong even bother responding to the summons? What possible reason could she have to come here? She clearly has access to transportation if she managed to get here at all, so it doesn't make sense." He said, his pale blue eyes shinning, his face scrunched in thought.

"I don't know. The woman was a prisoner of Illidan's for over two years. She's probably insane. All I need to know is where she's staying. I'll personally execute her here and now. I'll need a detachment of guards to help, with your permission of course." She said, regarding Varian. Varian smiled. He liked this woman, dryly rational to a point of impracticality.

'Well, if what you say is true, then I see no problem with that. However, Mistress Shadowsong has already left Stormwind for Northrend. In fact, she left several days ago, the same day the ports were closed from the scourge attack. You've no doubt seen the damages." He said. While he'd spoken, Shandris had made several attempts to interrupt him, but he raised his voice an octave higher to re-enforce it. Now that he'd finished…

"She left! You let Maiev go?" She said, her voice barely under control.

"You must understand, Mistress Feathermoon, that we had no knowledge of Maiev status as a refugee from the Kaldorei justice system. If your lady Tyrande had agreed to our shared information pact, perhaps this wouldn't have happened." He said, shifting in his throne and placing his chin on his right hand. Shandris glared at him for a split second, and Varian must have missed it, as he said nothing. "However, you were not summoned here to capture Maiev, you were summoned to help eliminate the Vrykul leaders based near Valgarde. Now, if you please, may we discuss that?"

Shandris opened her mouth to protest, then sighed and closed it, nodding her head.

"Excellent, Johnson, would you fetch a chair for our lady?" He asked.

"I'm fine standing." She replied, glancing at the ground.

Varian smiled, "Very well. So, down to business. In short, you and a dwarf, Brann Bronzebeard, who I'm sure you've heard of, in addition to an elf, Rict'thiel, who I doubt you've heard of, were to infiltrate Utgard keep, and assassinate any figures of importance and recover any information present pertaining to the scourge's military presence in Northrend," He said, shifting in his seat.

Shandris nodded, not really paying attention.

"Have you ever been to Northrend lady Feathermoon?" he asked.

"No, I can't say I have." She replied bitterly. Varian sighed,

"Well, there goes a good chance for you to detain Mistress Shadowsong. We could have teleported you there, but seeing as you've never been, you'll need to take a ship." He said. He signalled over a guard, whispered something in his ear, and returned his regard to the slender blue haired woman.

She paused for a moment. "When is the next ship leaving?" She asked.

Varian paused to think a moment, "Well, a standard military transport leaves in three days, but a civilian transport leave today. Actually, it should be casting off right about now. It's equipped with the first long distance communication crystals the Draenei used. The ship I sent the others on was supposed to be outfitted with one, but it left before we could install it. Oh." He said. The guard had returned, bearing two small badges with the symbol of the alliance designed into it. "You'll want one of these, a requisition badge. And give this one to Rict'thiel when you manage to find them. He'll doubtlessly need one as well."

Shandris, who'd already been moving towards the door when Varian had mentioned the ship was leaving as they spoke, did a double take and moved to take the two badges from the guard. She did a quick bow, "Thank you my lord."

Varian nodded, "Yes." He said. He expression was amused interest and Shandris took it as her cue to leave. She dashed out the doors at breakneck speeds. Varian called after her, "And if you should find Maiev before the mission is finished, please, wait until you've accomplished the mission before you kill her!" His voice echoed through his audience chamber, accompanied with a mildly stressed chuckle.

----------oOo----------

_-Two Hours Earlier-_

Venst walked into his home, extremely grateful that it had survived that scourge attack unscathed. "Check, Melida, I'm home! I got held up in the Auberdine harbour because of a bad storm." He called out. His voice bounced off the walls of the small home, and he moved towards the kitchen when he didn't get an answer. Check sat at the table, eating a bowl of watch appeared to be oatmeal.

"Hey dad." He said, a quiet calmness to his voice. Venst smiled at him, moving to the sink and pumping the tap until some water came out. He caught it in a cup before taking a large drink. Wiping his mouth he said,

"Hello Check. Where's your sister?" He said, placing the cup on the counter. Check shrugged his shoulders, and continued to eat his oatmeal. 'What do you mean you don't know?" Venst asked, moving towards the table.

"I mean I don't know. She left a note saying she went to see that elf who'd come down to the kitchen somewhere, and then she never came home." He said, taking another bite and swallowing. "I left for Goldshire that day. Didn't come back until they started letting people back into the city two days later. Couldn't find her." He said, shrugging again. Venst placed his pack on the table and turned to his son.

"What do you mean you couldn't find her?" He asked his voice very quiet and tight. Check to a swig of milk before responding,

"I couldn't find her. For all I know she could be anywhere. Hell, she could have hopped ship with all the people down at the docks who'd made a dash for the sea. I looked for her okay? I even checked in with those damn goblins she's so fond of. Little twit probably got herself killed during the att-" Check didn't get to finish his sentence. Venst had struck him in the jaw. The food he'd been chewing fell out of his mouth and onto the table.

"You will not talk about your sister that way." Venst said, a dangerous tone flowing through every word. Check didn't seem to here, instead massaging his jaw,

"It's not my fault the little twit like messing around with vermin. She probably thought she could make friends with the scourge who attacked. Damn half elf bitch has no sense about her and sh-" Venst punched him in the chest with an extreme speed that Check had never seen before. The blow sent him toppling over in his chair, his oatmeal falling on top of him. The glass of milk tipped over as the table shook and landed in his eyes.

He struggled to his feet, his arms raised, ready to block another blow, only to find Venst gone. He could hear thumping upstairs, and he looked back down at the spilt oatmeal. He began picking it up when Venst appeared again. The both stopped and glared each other before Venst spoke,

"It doesn't matter if she isn't completely human. She's a good girl and your sister. You have no right to treat her the way you do." He said, his voice very quiet and tight. Check glared at him,

"Whatever." He muttered, going back to the oatmeal at hand. Venst strode passed him and pulled a drawer completely out of its socket. He reached in and turned a knob, and a small hatch fell down from the drawers just above the counter on the left of the sink. A small pouch lay inside, and it jangled heavily with the sound of coins. Check looked up and saw Venst tying it to a leather belt. It went on the left side, beside a jewelled blade Check had never seen before. "Where did…"

"How many ships left during the attack?" Venst asked, cutting him off. He moved to the pantry and slid his finger along the side, then along another crack on the other side. The top of the pantry fell down, and a leather top fell out. Pulling over his head, he listened to Check's answer.

"I don't kn-" Venst cut him off again,

"Don't fuck with me boy. Think, where did the damn ship go?" He yelled, reaching into the compartment and pulling out what appeared to be a small toolkit out. He slid that into the belt, it seemingly fitting it with the rest of the belt's occupants.

"I- uh. The only ship that left that day was the one with Kevin on it. He said it was heading towards… Val guardian something. Northrend or whatever."He said again, wiping the milk form his face, his expression still shocked.

Venst made his way to the door, "Tell Josh he's in charge of the kitchen's while I'm gone. If I don't come back, the job is his until you can learn to smarten up." And with that, he bolted out the door, leaving it wide open in his wake. However wide the door was though, it came nowhere near as wide as Check's mouth.

----------oOo----------

Rupy and Geezle stood outside what remained of their bathhouse. They'd already gone over the numbers, and they couldn't even come close to paying for repairs. The whole thing would need to be rebuilt, and they simply didn't have the money. Geezle starred at it wistfully. Rupy was quiet, and she placed her bag of medical equipment on the ground beside her. The both looked at each other, then to the cart containing all the blacksmithing equipment the Geezle had saved or salvaged from the fire.

"You're sure this is the best idea?" He finally asked his wife. Rupy nodded, turning to him. She gave him a quiet hug followed by a kiss on the cheek which he returned. She patted him on the shoulder,

"Ricket says she's making a killing up at K3. She's even arranged for a gyrocopter to pick us up at Valgarde. We can't ignore that. Besides, there's not much left for us here." She said. Geezle sighed, and pulled out one of his cigars. Lighting it up, he passed it to Rupy, who took a long drag. Taking it back he said,

"Just wish we could say goodbye to that kid. I don't feel right leaving her like this." He said. Rupy sighed,

"Me neither, but we need to get to the ship now. There's just no time. Besides, her brother sad she wasn't home. We- we can't go searching through the city for her." She said, suppressing a sniff. Geezle passed her the cigar, and she held onto it this time. She began to take a deep drag when a man with flaming red hair tore past the both of them at unreal speeds. Without stopping to apologise, he kept running. Geezle helped Rupy regain her balance. Neither of them were particularly old given how goblins live, but Rupy had always been fragile.

"Asshole." He said, calling after him once Rupy had regained her footing. Rupy brushed her beige dress a little before picking up her bag.

"C'mon, we're going to miss the boat." She said. Geezle sighed, and took the cigar back from her. He grabbed the handle to his cart, and the two of them made they're way slowly towards the Stormwind city docked. Rupy left the occasional tear on the ground behind her as they went.

----------oOo----------

_-Present-_

Shandris tore through the streets, stopping only to orient herself and start again towards the magic district. Racing through the trade district as a short cut, she saw how badly it had been ravaged. One building, a bathhouse from the look of its sign, stood apart form the rest. While the others were being repaired, this one appeared striped and abandoned. Shandris didn't take time to ponder over it. Instead, she pulled her quiver tighter to her back and pushed her bow a little deeper into its harness.

Sliding around a turn, she jumped over a cart carrying bags of wheat. The cart driver yelled at her, but she was already gone before he could finish his sentence. She ducked into an ally, and stopped when two large men stepped in her path. Both wore belts that signified them as members of the Defias Brotherhood. Shandris had heard of these people before.

"Well lookee here Jim. Seems a little sweetum's wandered intu'h our midst." He said, nudging the other. He laughed, his breath revolting as he leaned into Shandris' face.

"Yeah, guess she has. What ye think we should do wi-" He didn't finish his sentence. A blade had a appeared in Shandris' hand and it was now lodged in beneath the man neck, shoved up into his skull. Shandris pulled the blade out and looked at the other man. He turned tail and ran. Shandris broke into a run after him, jumping onto his back and impaling the back of his head with the blade. As he crashed to the ground, she leaped from his back and continued her sprint towards the docks.

She broke around several more turns before passing through the underpass that led to the docks. She sped up, and burst into the sunlight at the other end. Not stopping she dashed for the ramp that lead down the cliff to the harbour. She could see the only ship in the docks, and it was casting off, the last of the ropes being tossed onto its deck. Shandris swore under breath and pushed her body faster.

"Wait!" She yelled, her quiver jumping as she bolted as fast as her legs would carry her. She felt some of the arrows spill out but kept running. Her eyes scanned the rest of the ramps. They stretched out for half a kilometre before winding its way down to the docks. She swore.

If she hadn't been running close to the edge she wouldn't have looked over the edge and saw the stall. What appeared to be a small shop was set up at the base of the wall, some two hundred feet down. Strong wooden poles kept it up, but it wasn't the shop that interested her. It was the roof. The roof was the standard red and white cloth you see at bazaars and it was anchored into a slant by the wooden supports. Shandris took a deep breath.

Then pitched herself over the side of the ramp. Time seemed to slow down as she was in free fall, the two hundred feet slidding by agonizingly slowly. Halfway down she realised what a stupid idea that had been. Now she was going to die, and Maiev was going to get away. And then she landed on the roof. The entire thing caved in, but it absorbed most of the impact from her fall, leaving her practically unharmed save for a gash in her arm from one of the splintered supports and a deep bruise on the left of her rump.

Yelling apologies to the stunned shopkeeper a few feet away, she ran limping towards the boat. It was pulling out of the harbour. He dashed down the dock. It was several feet out now. She put her last ounce of energy into her legs.

'Wait!!" She screamed, but the ship kept going. She burst into one last sprint. She hit the end of the dock, but the ship was ten feet out now. A sailor on board was looking at her confused. Shandris kept running, hit the end of the dock, and jumped.

Oo-----------oO

Well, there's a slight intermission chapter. I wrote this all in one day after reading Cyrus' review. Gotta say, it was very inspirational. And helpful. I don't have the story arc finished, and I'm still trying to figure out how to make what I want to do with the Characters mesh. As for chapter 3, I'm going to look into that and adjust Varian's response appropriately. As for Jaina, well she was involved with Kael'thas when she attended Dalaran, and I figured she would have been extremely shocked by his betrayal. He wasn't always bad. I'm also putting more effort into Maiev, as she was supposed to be very important, but I feel that Ridania kind of stole her spotlight. As you can tell, she's got some demons, no pun intended, and she's kind of socially retarded at the moment.

Rict'thiel's past will be revealed in time, when I can figure out how to make it mesh. As for Ridania, well, let's say she's a little more involved with Rict'thiel's and Melida's past then you might think.

The whole point of the attack on Utgard is simple. Get the characters out on an adventure. Now if they ever even get to Utgard is another question, but you'll have to wait and find out. Remember, not everything goes as planned.

Finally, Melida is going to be extremely important later in the story. Not from a lore perspective, but a character one. I'm still toying with placing her into the bit of lore concerning… well you'll have to wait again.

Anyway, thanks for the in depth review Cyrus. Very useful.

I'll try to finish the story arc soon.

Until next time, Just Corey

PS: And of course, Fanfic needed to have technical difficulties with my account just as I finished this. Damnit…


	9. Damn Goblins

Taking the pot from Melida's hands, Ridania smirked ruefully at Rict. Melida looked excited but uncertain. Taking the moment of distraction, while everyone stared at Ridania, she shifted back to her normal self. The small verdant sphere that hung around her neck was a shade darker then before, its green smudging into something different.

"Well, she's her mother's daughter, that's for sure." Ridania said, smiling, although her eyes showed slight discontent. Rict raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding. "Oh come on Brighteyes, don't act stupid. Look at her… Look at this!" She said, holding the small pot higher, its tendrils swinging lazily. They swayed from side to side in the sea breeze, but Rict still didn't seem to understand.

"Miss Rida says she's going to give me druid training!" Melida said, her eyes showing the excitement behind her thoughtful guise. She was trying to act nonchalant about it, but even Rict could tell that she was barely able to contain her enthusiasm.

"Now hold on child. I can't train anything until you get a recommendation first. I told you that." Ridania said, giving the girl a playful bump of the hip. Melida's expression remained thoughtful, but her eyes looked a little crestfallen. "Relax. All you'd need to do would be to demonstrate your ability to another druid, or and Alliance Military officer, and-"

"And you can train me!" She said, practically hoping with excitement again. Rict was taken aback by her schizophrenic shifts in mood. Hormone, thy name is teenager. "What about the captain? Could I get a recommendation from him?" She asked, now actually bobbing back and forth from her heels to the tips of her toes. Ridania sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"No child. The captain is far too busy, and besides, he wouldn't know a thing about druid training anyway. Can you picture a dwarf communing with the primal forces of nature?" She asked, placing both hands on her hips and starring at Melida.

"If nature drank, then yes." Geoffrey put in. This brought a raucous laugh from Rict and a sour look from Ridania.

"Not funny." She growled. Turning back on Melida, she continued, "But no. You'd need someone who commands or commanded a military detachment. Someone who's been in the field and seen us at work. A lot." She finished, looking thoughtfully over the side of the ship. There was a small popping sound, and the soft padding of leather. Maiev's head appeared over the top of the railing.

"Child, I hope you still have that note I wrote for you those days ago." She said, leaning against the railing, her upper body hanging over the edge. She was wearing a tight leather Jerkin, with a woollen shirt underneath. She was sweating, probably from working in the sails, and it beaded at her forehead and nose. Her hair was tied back in a tight knot, silver strands hanging lightly down the side of her head. In the light it was hard to discern the purple in her hair, as it shone brightly, reflecting the sun off it weakly.

"I uh… I don't know…" Melida dug through the pockets of her tattered dress. After a moment, she pulled a snub of paper along with some lint and a copper coin, from one of the more damaged pockets. A large corner was ripped off, but the writing was more or less intact. "Is that what this was?" She said wondrously. She passed the slip of paper to Ridania, who brought it close to her face.

"This is Darnassian. Hmmm…" She read the note quickly, going over the words. "It's cut off here… does that say blade training?" She asked, peering up at Maiev. Nobody was there. Instead, Maiev answered from face level, several feet away. She was now leaning against the door frame.

"Yes. It does." She said. Ridania looked at her a moment.

"Druids can't use blades. Not made of metal anyway." She said, casting a doubtful look at the recommendation. "I… I don't think you know enough about druids for your recommendation to be valid Maiev. I know you lead the watchers and all, but that's a big mistake…"

"Druid's can't use metal blades because they can't shape shift while carrying them. Anything on a druid's person must be made of living material, like the buckles to your armour. Darnassian ash, if I'm correct." She said, giving Ridania a hard look. Ridania threw her hands up in front of her.

"Okay, okay. You know your druids. I guess this is valid then…" She said. Melida hopped up and down once. "Well, I guess we could have bone knives fashioned for her… But I couldn't train her to use them." She said, her voice trailing off. There was silence, and then a collective growl from Rict's and Maiev's stomachs. Geoffrey wiped his nose.

"Well, I'm sure you guys can continue this conversation over lunch." He glanced at Melida, and gave her a knowing wink. She grinned at him. "What say we get some grub?" He asked. He turned and began walking towards the kitchens. Melida mouthed the word _grub_ to Rict, who simply shrugged.

Maiev however, nodded her approval, as did Ridania, practically jumping for the distraction. Rict grinned, and they moved towards the mess hall. Ridania pulled on the edge of Rict's robes, though he barely felt it.

"We'll catch up to you guys in a second." She said, pulling Rict to the edge of the boat. Melida and Geoffrey continued, but Maiev gave a wary glance back at the too before following them. Ridania waited until they were gone before speaking.

"Alright, I want some answers. How do you know her?" She asked, looking at Rict seriously. Rict hesitated,

"Ah well. I was invited for dinner…" He said, going over the last few days he spent in Stormwind. He didn't mention Melida's breakdown, or the fact that he knew she was half elven. Ridania cut him off.

'She's a half elf, Rict'thiel." She said quietly. Rict was beginning to piece the picture together.

"So?" He replied, strangely more protectively then he'd meant to. Ridania sighed.

"So, she doesn't have pure blood." She said, looking out over the edge of the boat.

"What the hell does having pure blood have to with anything?" He said tightly, anger rising in his voice. Ridania looked at him a moment, then continued,

"Don't misunderstand me smartass. I had more half raced friends then you would think. No, the fact that she isn't pure blood could pose a problem from her training." She said. Rict looked confused.

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean there have been… There have been accidents." She said quietly. "I don't know for sure, because there have been half elven druids before, but not all half elves can become them. I'm sure it's nothing, but… We'll… I'll need to be careful training her." She said quietly. Rict shook his head, trying to sort this new development out. He gave up, and simply shuffled it to the back of his mind.

"Alright." Was all he managed to reply. Something was wrong here. This didn't have to do with just Melida, but he couldn't find it in him to pry. "Well… let's get some food." He said, trying to lead her towards the door.

"Hold on. There's one more thing." She said, "I repressed the memory of the attack from her mind. She's too young to go through something like that. Anyway, magically repressed memories can't be repaired magically," She said, as Rict opened his mouth to ask that same question, "But they can be triggered by events that cause the person to relate to their unknown past. An old piece of clothing, a place they knew intimately, a person they knew during the repressed memory cycle. Anyway, just be careful around her. Don't mention the undead." She said rubbing the bridge of her nose. She let out a groan of pent up tension, shook her head a few times, and then looked at Rict, the smile returning to her features.

Rict nodded, patting his stomach, "Okay. Gotcha, now let's get something to eat." He said. She nodded, and the two of them began jogging to catch up the others.

----------oOo----------

Time seemed to trickle by as Shandris soared through the air. She'd misjudged the distance, and the boat was likely a good fifteen to twenty feet away. The gods were with her though, as she slammed into the side of the boat. Without thinking, one of her hands managed to find a hold, and she gripped the rope hanging off the edge. It took her a moment to recover from her stunning hit, and she managed to find a second hand hold. She began struggling her way up when an arm appeared over the edge of the ship. Groaning gratefully, Shandris grabbed the hand, and was promptly hauled to the deck. A few grunts later, she pushed off the side and went careening over railing and landing on something dense and firm.

"Oof, mind getting off me miss?" A voice said underneath her. She'd shut her eyes from the impact, but now she opened them. A wincing man with bright red hair greeted her. She glanced down and saw the scabbard of her blade jabbing into his abdomen. He grunted again, trying to push her off, and she promptly leapt off. She cried out in pain as she landed on her bruised butt. "You alright?" The man asked, rolling over and trying to get up.

"Yeah… Yeah, I just had a little spill. That's all." She said, although she winced again as she tried to get up. The man laughed at her,

"I saw. I watched you jump off the cliff. You're fucking insane." He said offering a hand. Shandris glared at him a moment, before taking the hand. Something shiny glinted in her vision, and she tried to look at it, but she immediately felt noxious. The man adjusted quickly, and she was now being supported by his arm and shoulder.

"Thanks," she muttered darkly, "I think I-" She winced again, effectively silencing her.

"You should probably go to the sick bay. There's a medic down there. Probably have a look at you." Piped one of the sailors cluttered on deck. Unbeknownst to her, she'd managed to attract a small crowd with her jumping fiasco. The sailor, his hair a dark brown, glanced over his shoulder, "You need any help?" he asked the man. He laughed, but shook his head.

"Nah, I've got this. She is very heavy. Although that damn bow of hers… No, I'm fine." He said. The sailor nodded, pointing across the deck.

"Sick bays that way, second door on your left." He called after the man.

As they moved, Shandris felt the need to protest. She opened her mouth, but that action seemingly drained all the energy from her body, and the man slumped a little to support her.

"Okay, I lied. You're not light. Goddamn bow. You really need all this equipment for a boat ride?" He grunted. Shandris was quiet a moment. She didn't know how to react. She had literally no experience in dealing with humans, with the exception of the small detachment she'd met during the battle of mount Hyjal. And they'd been quite serious and grim. She hadn't expected quite so much… sass from one of them. She sighed,

"Thanks." The words flew tiredly from her mouth, and the man simply grunted his welcome.

----------oOo----------

Maiev and Ridania sat happily at a table, enjoying each a cup of ail and a quiet conversation. Ridania hadn't quite been her bubbly self ever since she'd received Melida's recommendation. Still, she was engaged in quiet conversation with the warden, telling her of the changes in Darnassus. Apparently Maiev still hadn't returned home yet since the time she'd escaped. And if she had, she wasn't rude enough to interrupt Ridania.

Rict, on the other hand, was grumbling while wiping down a counter. Several indiscernible curses, most of then in highborne, floated up from the counter he was polishing. Ridania laughed, looking over to him.

"I'm sorry Brighteyes. Just this once. I'll spot you the money for food next time, but this is just too great." She giggled. Maiev looked amused, but if she felt like laughing, she didn't know it. Rict'thiel cursed a little louder, but managed to mumble out a thank you. "No problem. Consider it pay back for… services rendered. No but seriously, you'll need to pay me back later." She said, holding a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

Geoffrey came out of the kitchen with the woman's food, each having ordered an onion soup. For a military ship, the paying customers sure did get their money's worth. He returned to the kitchen, but not before swatting Rict in the head with a dish cloth. "Quit you're gripping boy. You wanna eat without paying? Then you work for it." He said. Muttering something about being over worked as it was, he returned through the double doors to the kitchen. The ship swayed merrily, knocking over Rict's tub of water, seeming to be enjoying his suffering as well.

Now Rict began swearing in fluid common, his anger quiet evident as the water on his face began to steam. Ridania tapped him lightly on the head, "No fire spells in here Rict." She said. He muttered more incoherent curses, and was struck a second time, this time more solidly, "And stop swearing. There are children about." She said, gesturing at Melida who's appeared through the double doors carrying a large tray leaden with different kinds of food.

"Where you off to Melida?" She asked, now turning Rict's head in circles with her staff. Rict swore a little more before sending his arms flying round his head to rid him of the staff. He got a faceful of water in turn as the ship rocked, sending him flying into the bucket.

"I uh…" She said, glancing at Rict, "Geoffrey asked me to bring the captain his…" Rict swore again, swiping at the water, "His food." She finished. Ridania nodded, and Melida flowed out the door. Moving slowly under the weight of the tray, she carefully made her way to the captain quarters. Geoffrey had been explicit in his directions, and Melida found them more then easy to follow. She pondered a moment before knocking on the door with her foot.

"Eh? Oh, ye', come in." The voice replied, muffled by the sturdy oak of the door. Melida paused a moment, then gave the door a kick. It swung open heavily, and made a loud thudding noise as it crashed against the wall. The captain didn't even look up, and Melida felt something flutter past her head. She followed it with her eyes, but couldn't figure out what it was. "Damn blood elves. Always sendin' them bloody dragon hawks… they better return tha' pigeon."

Melida looked at him quizzically. A moment later he glanced up, "Damn Geoffrey. Yer' a trite smaller then last time eh?" He said. In response, Melida re-adjusted her hold on the heavy tray. "Ye' well… Hold on a moment. I'll get this cleared in a sec." He said, pulling a knife from his desk. He cut the parchment off the dragon hawk's leg. It fluttered out the door while he examined the letter. As he read it, he slumped into his chair, wiping some sweat from his brow. "Damn finally." He said to himself. Melida's quizzical look grew even more intrigued, as she moved to the desk. She placed the tray in the cleared area on the desk.

"Good news?" She asked, backing away from the desk. He looked at her, the faint trace of suspicion hovering on his features before he answered.

"Aye. Them Shattered Sun elves have agreed teh' let us re-supply in their harbour. Damn good news, since we're running… Never ye' mind youngin'." He said, "The Isle of Quel'Danas isn't the most homely place in the world, but they have plenty of supplies there. This could work…" He muttered to himself. He turned away from her and wiped a red feather from his desk, muttering something about _damn elves _Melida took that as her cue to leave, and did so promptly. Shuffling out, she clicked the door softly closed, and watched as the small diminutive dragon hawk flapped its way down the corridor in front of her.

----------oOo----------

The man carried Shandris into the sick bay. Staggering over to the closest bed, he let her down harder then she'd have liked, and she winced as a sharp pain raced through her body. Biting her lip, she adjusted herself until she was as comfortable as she could be. The man walked away, and returned with a stool for himself. Placing it beside the bed, he went to the back of the room, looking for the medic the sailor had mentioned. After a minute of talking, which Shandris couldn't quite discern, he returned. And he was alone. Or at least she thought he was alone. As he passed the final bed, she realised he was accompanied by a rather fat, yet buxom goblin. She carried a bag with a bright green cross sown into the front.

Shandris stared at the goblin, which promptly jumped onto the stool the man had brought for himself. Shandris smirked at the frowning man, who ventured off to get another one. She looked pensively at Shandris, who shrunk away from her. She'd never really had this much exposure to different races before, and this was in fact her first brush with Goblins. You don't meet a lot of new people patrolling the borders of Feralas with the other Shadowleaves. Stubby fingers began to poke her sides, to which she winced, but managed to contain any whimpers she might have wanted to voice.

"So… What did you do?" The goblin asked. Shandris hesitated before answering.

"I… I jump off a cliff onto a market stand…" She said, blushing at how stupid she sounded now. As if reading her mind, the goblin continued,

"That was stupid," She said, looking Shandris up and down once more, "But funny as hell." Opening her bag, which she'd placed on the stand beside Shandris' bed, she pulled a small knife out. Before Shandris could protest, she made a small cut in her arm, and collected the tiny amount of blood that leaked out in a vial. "Don't look so disgusted." She said, placing the vial on the desk, only to be joined by a mortar and pestle. She pulled out a pair of glasses then continued, "The names Rupy by the way. Rupy Peekoboil…" She said, looking expectantly at Shandris. Shandris didn't know how to respond to this goblin. Night elves had a lot more respect for personal space, or at least their supposed to, then Rupy. The man had returned, and sat down beside Rupy. She ploughed on, "This is the part where you tell me you're name." She pushed her hand into Shandris' side, causing Shandris' to flinch in pain again.

"Shandris… Shan-" She flinched as Rupy pressed again, a little lower, "Shandris Feathermoon." She finished. The man looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Shandris sighed inside, "I- I guess I sho- should say thank you…" She paused.

"Vladimir Stolski." The man finished. Shandris nodded, but the curious expression didn't leave the mans face. A moment passed before Rupy spoke up,

"This prick is Venst Hearthflame." She said. The man laughed, rubbing his head.

"Damnit Rupy. Just because you're friends with Melida doesn't mean you can ruin my fun." He said before snorting. He took a moment to compose himself, and the quietly amused expression returned to his face. "So… Not much to do but talk I guess." He said, grinning a little through his small beard.

"Shut up and help me Venst." Rupy replied, hitting him with the back of the knife she'd just picked up.

"Alright alright. But seriously, why are you here. I thought civilian transports had priest or certified medics handle the sick bays." He said, moving a little closer to the goblin. She snorted.

"Only way I could get free transport. Geezle is supposed to be down in the engine room. And I am a certified medic you little twit." She replied, jumping down off the stool and moving around to Shandris' other side.

"Yes of course. How could I forget," he said, tracing his thumb along a scar the started at the back of his hand and ran all the way up his forearm. Shandris couldn't be sure, but the scar ran underneath on the opposite side of his arm as well. "I appreciate what you did for Melida, by the way. I know I've told you before, but seriously, thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. Actually wait. Where is Melida?" She asked, looking up at Venst. He hesitated, "Don't even think of lying to me Venst." She said, turning her body towards him. He looked down at the floor, his smile gone. He sighed quietly.

"I… I don't know." He said, looking back up her. Where Shandris expected to find sadness or even glum helplessness, she found a strange grim determination that reminded her of Tyrande. "I was gone during the attack, and Melida…" His voice choked off for a moment, "Melida got caught in the middle. I think she was carried on the ship that had fled, the one Check's friend Kevin was assigned to. It's heading for Valgarde, like this one."

"If she's on the same ship as that elf, I think she'll be in good hands." Rupy said quietly. Venst looked at her confused. "She said she was going to see an elf off. Came by that morning to pick up the necklace that Geezle had finished for her, and mentioned it." Venst nodded his head, "Tall elf with long black hair. Seemed a mage judging by his aura. We'd invited him in for a bath a few days earlier. Seemed like a good person." She said, turning back to Shandris. Shandris winced as she began poking her again. "So I guess I don't need to ask why you're on this boat in the first place." She finished.

Venst nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. He glanced at Shandris, then at Rupy. "Why are you here Rupy?" He asked. She froze mid prod, before leaning back. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a bottle of what looked like goblin alcohol. For all intents and purposes, it also doubled as fuel. Taking a swig, she looked ahead.

"Bath house burnt down during the attack. Don't have the money to rebuild, so we're heading north. Figure we can make a decent living up at K3 with Ricket. Damn adventurers always need something or other, eh?" She said, glancing at Venst. She passed him the bottle, and he took a quick swig. Coughing, he passed it to Shandris, who simply stared at it suspiciously.

"Damn, I'll never get used to that stuff." He said coughing. Shandris held the bottle out to Rupy and was about to say no thank you, when Rupy cut her off.

"Drink some. It'll numb the pain."

"She's right. Believe me, she's right." Venst said, managing to laugh. Rupy sighed,

"Why did you have to be such a fucking lightweight Venst?" She said. Shandris laughed nervously, and took a carefully measured swig. It burned going down her throat, and her eyes watered, but after a few moments, the sharp pain from Rupy's prodding subsided a little. Venst grinned in reply to Rupy complaint,

"So… You know our stories. I figure you can pay be back for saving you by telling me why you're heading to Northrend." He said, gesturing to Shandris. Shandris looked hesitant a moment, before responding.

"I can't tell you. You might be an informant sent to figure out my mission's goal." She said tightly. It was the standard night elf response for members of different races who tried to pry out information. Venst laughed at this.

"Yes, yes. Nice work. I made you jump off the side of a cliff, then helped you on board so my friend and I could interrogate you in the sick bay. Damn, guess we're caught eh Rupy?" He said. Rupy didn't look up from Shandris' side.

"Have I mentioned you're an asshole Venst?" She said. He grinned at her, whilst Shandris glared at him,

"Yes, many time in fact. But in all seriousness, my lady… Feathermoon, why have you decided to join us on our way to Valgarde." He said, taking a slight bow. Shandris glared at him, then huffed a sigh.

"I guess there isn't much harm in telling you." She said, "I was tasked to join up with a group. We're off to complete an objective I can't tell you about. It was supposed to be me, a dwarf, and… oh Elune. A high elf." She said quietly. Venst snorted, looking up at her from the floor he'd been examining a minute ago. "Well… I guess our elf is one in the same then…" She said. "I know there aren't many high elves in Stormwind, so I guess we're after the same guy."

"Wrong. I'm after my daughter. The elf seemed like a nice guy, but I'm getting Melida out before anything else." He said. Shandris' eyes went wide.

"You didn't mention that she was your daughter…" She said tightly. Venst raised an eyebrow, but Shandris managed to wave his hand away. "Nothing, nothing." If the girl was Venst daughter, she could be in a lot of potential danger with Maiev around.

Rupy seemed to be content with her prodding and motioned Venst over to him. She hoped down, and moved over to his side. Opening her bag again, she began placing various herbs into the pestle. "Venst, could you mix that please?" She asked tartly. Venst glared at her for making him move to the other side of the bed for no reason. Still, he nodded and began grinding the herbs in the pestle, without waiting for Rupy to tell him the measurements. Rupy turned to Shandris.

"Are you decent under this?" She asked, tugging on Shandris' leather and mail shirt. Shandris nodded hesitantly, and faster then she could believe, Rupy undid the buckles that fastened it on and pulled it over her head. Apparently Shandris' definition and Venst's definitions of decent didn't coincide, because he whistled when he looked up from his herbs. Shandris' chest was wrapped in a layer of linen cloth, which while covering most of her small breasts, didn't quite reach the bottom or the top. Turning scarlet, Shandris brought her arms up to cover her chest.

"Thought you said you were decent under this…" Rupy said, glancing up at her. Shandris looked away. She'd been stuck in the jungle with the other Shadowleaves for far too long. Rupy glanced down at her pants. "What about there?" She asked, gesturing to the chain mail pants that Shandris wore. "Are you decent there?" She asked again.

Shandris turned a deeper shade of scarlet, and the colour clashed with her purple skin to make it even darker. "Wh- why is that important?" She asked. Rupy, her patience apparently thinned, ploughed on.

"Are you decent or not child?" She asked, taking the ointment Venst had made from him. She began to swill her hand in it, a pale blue light sliding into the depths of the mortar.

"Excuse me. But I don't see why I should need to take my pants off. And further more." She winced as she shifted her position to sit upright. Venst was grinning, watching the two of them, Further more, stop calling me child. I'm over ten millennia old thank you!" She said, glaring at Rupy.

"Yeah, well did you ever stop to study any first aid during those ten fucking millennia?" Rupy asked, glaring back at Shandris. Shandris opened her mouth to protest when Venst cut in.

"I'm only thirty seven and even I know first aid." He said, sitting back the moment he'd said it. Shandris glared at him, but Rupy barrelled on.

"As I thought. If you had done any first aid training, you'd realise this ointment is for internal bleeding. I.E Bruises, which you ass is covered in. So shut up and tell me," She said tartly, "Are you decent."

Shandris opened her mouth to protest several times, and Venst looked at her, eyebrow raised again. She managed to turn an even deeper shade of scarlet, before Venst decided to be gentlemanly, "Right, well. I'll take this as my cue to leave." He said getting up.

"Damn right." Rupy growled at him. Venst laughed, and made his way towards the door. With her free hand, Rupy grabbed a wad of bandages from her bag. She tossed it over her shoulders, and it hit something with a dull thump. "You too Geezle," She said.

"Yeah, yeah…" A goblin grumbled from where it had just appeared from beside a bed a few beds down. He rubbed his head, muttering things one ought to not mutter, but left anyway. Shandris turned a deeper shade of scarlet, and would have turned purple if she hadn't already been purple.

----------oOo----------

Melida returned to find everyone, including Rict'thiel, eating. While Maiev and Ridania were enjoying their onion soups, Rict was tearing savagely into a steak. Geoffrey's plate lay as empty as the rest of the mess hall. Melida approached the table, and reached for the plate that'd been left out for her. She smirked when she realised they were pancakes. Geoffrey grinned at her,

"Didn't know what else you liked kid." He said, sitting back and taking a deep swig from a bottle of what Melida guessed was ail. "But seriously, don't get used to this food guys. We aren't going to have enough to reach Valgarde if I keep dolling it out like this." He said.

Rict grumbled audibly into his steak, but sat up. Melida smiled when she realised he'd been exaggerating, since he no longer looked mad like he had earlier. He grinned at her, and wiped the juices from around his mouth. Melida took a bite of her pancake before talking.

"Where's the Isle of Quel'Danas?" She asked. As by luck or cruel fate, Ridania and Maiev both chose that time to choke on their soup. Rict glanced at them, but they signalled that they were alright. Geoffrey looked at Melida a moment.

"Well, about four days good weather from here. We're off the coast of Ironforge at the moment. I recognised Menethil Harbour as we passed it. Early this morning. Why?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and boring into Melida with his eyes. She averted her gaze but continued.

"Well, you won't have to worry about food then. The captain said we'd be re-supplying there."

If Geoffrey hadn't been sitting he probably would have been whooping with joy. As the conversation continued, he mentioned that because the ship had left early, they hadn't gotten all the supplies on, and food was what was to be loaded on last. The conversation continued, and it revolved mostly around Melida asking Geoffrey what he knew about Quel'Danas.

Later, Rict rubbed the bridge of his nose, wincing from a sharp headache. He look at Ridania, who didn't notice.

"Hey, Ridania, do you think you could look at my head." He said, rubbing his eyes.

Ridania looked at him. Her expression was pensive, but she replaced it with a smirk. Raising an eyebrow, she managed to get Rict to glare at her.

"No, I'm serious. I've had this headache since the start of dinner." He said tartly. Ridania smiled, but got up. Rict followed her, and the pair of them walked out the door and onto the deck. Geoffrey's eyes followed them, and Melida looked at him confused. He simply smiled at her and passed her Ridania's half eaten soup.

As Rict crossed the deck to the sick bay, he couldn't but help glance off into the sea. He felt drawn to the horizon that faced of the north eastern side of the boat. The feeling passed after a moment though, and he shrugged, moving to catch up to Ridania.

----------oOo----------

Venst sat beside Geezle as the stars glided by over head. They'd been sitting there for a few hours. Rupy had come up to tell Geezle to go eat, which he promptly ignored. They both took turns taking small sips from Geezle's flask of goblin liquor.

"Seems kind of coincidental eh?" Venst said, passing the bottle back to Geezle. Geezle sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"I don't really believe in coincidences anymore kid. Didn't believe in it when I found Melida, and didn't believe it when you found me. Still, it is kind of like old times." He said. Venst nodded, "Still got those blades eh?" Geezle asked. Venst nodded again. That was the trick to getting Geezle drunk. You needed to wait until the right moment, and then the conversation would flow out of him. He'd been like this back in his bath house too.

"I'm sorry about your home." He said, taking the flask from Geezle again. The goblin sighed, letting out a small cough.

"Just an un lucky coincidence I guess." He said, taking the bottle back from Venst. He took a deep drink, and wiped his mouth.

"Thought you didn't believe in coincidences." Venst said, sitting back against the railing. A sailor with a lantern passed by them, but they didn't pay much attention to the bobbing light he brought.

"Thought you weren't going to be a smartass anymore." Geezle replied. Venst chuckled, shifting his position a little. Geezle fastened the stopped on the flask, then un did it, repeating a few times.

"So… I heard you started forging again. Made a necklace for Melida." Venst said, rubbing his head.

"No, I'm not. Only did it because she's your daughter, and she had a bloody verdant sphere. Can't have something like that sit uselessly in her pocket." He muttered. Venst nodded, accepting it quietly. He was quiet a moment.

"You ever think maybe more of us could have gotten out?" He asked. The Goblin shuddered visibly, but answered.

"No, I don't. We got us and the others out. Couldn't save the rest." He said quietly. He rummaged through his pockets for a cigar, but came back empty handed.

"Still, I wish we could talk to the others everyone once in a while."

"You know why we can't do that." Geezle said sharply. Venst sighed, watching the moon rise a little higher into the sky.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Oo----------oO

Well, new chapter up. Pretty prompt update time in my opinion. And Canis, sorry for fucking up your name. In case anyone didn't notice, Venst and the Peekoboils have a little history. I'm going to write that story when I finish this one, but this story is going to be long, so don't expect anything for another year.

Anyway, til next time.


	10. Darkness Flutters

Ridania began training Melida in the evenings. Melida would often complain about the late hour, but Ridania said she'd need to get used to it if she wanted to be a druid. Melida would sigh her response, and usually follow it up by asking when she'd learn to shape shift. Ridania told her it would be a while before they started anything like that. However, when Ridania's sadistic streak would pick up, she'd transform part of the way when Melida was around. The ears, tails, claws and other animal parts, made Melida jealous to no end.

Maiev continued working the sails, now un-hindered by the sailor who'd been harassing her earlier. In fact, most of the crew was now giving her a pretty wide birth, leaving her to ponder her thoughts as she moved about the beams. She's already presented her requisition badge to the captain, but she continued to help regardless. The sailor who'd bothered her would toss her the occasional glare, and mutter darkly when she passed.

Two days passed like this, people going about new routines. With nothing to do, and a new found hate for the kitchen, Rict'thiel passed his time aiming fire spells out onto the sea. The crew would take bets whenever a bird came near the ship. Rict would then try to roast it right out of the sky, much to Ridania's disdain. She'd hit Melida on the head the first time the girl had laughed, watching the show. Melida now remained silent while she watched the occasional bird go down. The men up in the sails would laugh, wagering on how long it would be until he missed.

The rest of the day passed, and the sun sank slowly into the ocean, while the moon rose from it on the opposite horizon. Melida began getting ready for another night of training.

----------oOo----------

Venst lay on his back, twirling the knife in between his fingers. Over the past few days he'd gotten a decent shave, using Geezle's razor of course, and had managed to buy some clothing off one of the merchants on this ship. His leather tunic hung from the side of the bed stand. The knife twirled gleefully in the moonlight shinning in through the open window. Try as he might, even opening the window to the most he could, Venst couldn't seem to find relief from the heat.

He rubbed his hand across hjis forehead, wiping back sweat and dirt. He still hadn't taken a bath today. He sighed to himself. Glancing up out the window, he watched the moon float overhead with open disdain. He didn't feel comfortable at night anymore. The fact that he could still see perfectly didn't help.

----------oOo----------

Shandris sat in the small wicker chair stationed by the corner of her room. She had a small piece of paper out, and was fanning her face, trying to find relief from the insufferable heat. Kalimdor didn't have nights like this, not unless you stayed in the barrens. She fanned a little harder, trying to beat back the sweat leaking down her face and chest. She was still wearing the leather and chain mail armour she'd brought on the ship when she'd first gotten here. She hadn't managed to convince the merchants on the lower deck to accept her requisition badge, and she only had a limited amount of money, for necessities only. The bruises where Rupy had rubbed the ointment in itch furiously, but were healing quickly. Running her fingers through her hair, she felt it tangled and greasy. Sighing, she made to go bathe like the past two nights.

She then remembered she didn't have a bathroom, as she hadn't for the past two nights. Muttering darkly to herself, she decided she'd jump off the side of the ship. That would cool her down. Shaking her head, she figured that perhaps it would be more prudent to just use the crew's bath later that night. When there was no chance of anyone coming down to use it. The goblin Rupy had shown her it, happily remarking that it was Geezle's design.

Shandris muttered darkly about goblins, and went back to fanning her face.

----------oOo----------

Ridania sat, legs firmly planted beneath her, in quiet meditation. If it were not for the gentle rocking of the ship, she even visibly moving. However, the swaying of the sea accentuated the swell of her chest as she breathed slowly in and out. There was a quite serenity to her, as she communed gently with the spirits of the earth far below them. They whispered soothingly back to her, they're form tenacity a great comfort to her.

Melida, on the other hand, wasn't fairing quite so well. When Ridania had told her to find a position that was the most comfortable for her, besides sniggering, she took it as a cue to move around a lot. As a result, she couldn't still her thoughts enough to commune even the smallest message with the earthen spirits below her. As such, it didn't take very long for her to become irate with the entire process.

"Damnit Ridania. This isn't working." She said, not actually directing the comment to Ridania. Ridania continued her meditation, simply smiling to herself. "Seriously, why on Azeroth am I trying to commune with earthly spirits of we're out in the middle of the ocean? It's way too hard. Impossible." She grumbled more to herself then anyone else. Ridania took a deep breath, exhaling evenly.

"Melida, child, you're trying to commune with the earth on open sea, because, simply put, it is way too hard. However," She said, gesturing to her hand. Her eyes still closed, all the dirt that had escaped the days cleaning came flying into her palm, coalescing into what appeared to be a rock, a faint green light emanating from it. She held it out for Melida, how took it, the sour look on her face still evident. "If you can commune with the earth while at sea, it will be extremely easy to do so when on land." She continued. "There is much one can do if one stays in constant contact with the elements. However," She opened her eyes, glancing at Melida's hand. The rock fell back down into dust, collapsing and leaking out of Melida's hand. "If one allows trivial things to distract them, then you can't focus on that contact."

Melida looked at her hand a moment, before shaking the dirt out. She glanced up at Ridania, "Can you only do that with your eyes closed?"

Ridania sweat dropped, puffing out a breath of frustration. Shaking her head, she replied, "No. No, I was trying to make a point." She said, returning to her meditative position, "Which I obviously didn't." She mumbled to herself. Closing her eyes, she took a deep cleansing breath, before relaxing and trying to reconnect with the earth. However, another distraction presented itself in the form of Rict'thiel. He came up the steps, carrying a canteen of much needed water.

He offered her the water, which she took gratefully. The amount of energy needed to commune with the earth at this distance quickly drains a person. Taking a few deep gulps, she passed the canteen to Melida, who huffed and ignored it, instead opting to improve her meditation. Ridania smiled to herself a little. Her lesson had worked a little after all.

"To tell me again why you guys need to stay up in the middle of the night doing this?" He asked, taking a seat beside her. Ridania wiped her forehead, and took another deep gulp of water before answering.

"I've told you four times already." She said, casting him a dirty look.

"I know, but there's nothing else to do. And I just love hearing it. Plus I wasn't really listening those other times." He said grinning. Ridania sighed,

"Fine. Fine. The reason we're practising at night is because for one, that is when we night elves are most in tune with our magical abilities. Druidism is a very… Selective magic. Unlike your magic, which calls upon the energy, or mana, in your own body, we rely on the energy of the world around us. It had its disadvantages, but it also allows a druid to excel at their craft far faster then you would at yours. However, it does come with drawbacks." She explained, taking a deep drink from the canteen. As much as she tried to hide it, she did enjoy lecturing Rict about druidism, mainly because he didn't interrupt her like Melida did.

"Drawbacks, like being unable to use the magic under pressure. To use our magic, we need to commune with nature, and the moment our mind breaks off from that, we can't do anything. It takes training to become able to use magic under pressure, hence," She said, motioning to Melida who was sitting cross legged, her eyes shut tight in thought, "I find it best when training new druids to have them begin to work under pressure. Also, it is best to have them develop the ability to commune with more then one element at once. Kind of like shamanism, except instead of controlling the elements, we work with them." She shifted her posture, leaning back into Rict's side. She passed him the canteen, and he took a drink.

"That is why Melida is practising communing with the earth here. At sea. Not only does she need to travel exactly four hundred and thirty seven feet to reach the nearest piece of earth, she needs to navigate through the water. On top of that," She braced herself against Rict, "The ships rocking causes a distraction, which helps her develop her ability to deal with distractions." She said, leaning a little more into Rict.

"I'm right here you know." Melida said, not looking at them or opening her eyes.

"And of course, we provide an even better distraction. Conversation is very difficult to ignore when your attempting to go into a trance. However," She raised her voice a little, "One must learn to ignore it if one wishes to have any practical use for their magic."

Rict nodded, curving his back a little so she could sink a little deeper into his side. He liked this. What with Melida's training, he hadn't gotten any time alone with Ridania. Well, any important time anyway. If he could glean this, he felt placated a little.

"Now, back to your questions of why we're doing this so late," She said, snuggling herself in. "As Melida is new to all this. And I don't want to kill her. Yes you can die from practising our magic. Anyway, her mana, while still undetermined, should never become depleted. As she's new to this, losing most of her mana in one session can be extremely dangerous. So, we train at night, so that she can benefit from increased mana regeneration. I don't want her to drop dead on me." Said Ridania. Rict nodded his head, a little sceptical.

"Also, if she does drop dead, I want to have enough mana to be able to resurrect her without passing out myself." She said, laughing. Rict smiled, while Melida looked a little irate, though not opening her eyes or moving.

"How exactly does resurrection work?" Rict asked, making himself a little more comfortable against the wooden railing he was lying against. Ridania adjusted as well, "I mean, if I could learn it, it sounds like something that would be extremely useful to know."

Ridania was quiet a moment, and Rict regretted asking, obviously think he'd broached a touchy subject. But, after a moment, Ridania answered him.

"You couldn't learn how to do it. Resurrection is not something any mortal can do. The reason I'd be so tired after a resurrection is because my body acts as a conduit for the raw spirits of the earth and water. No mortal can resurrect anything. They need to ask a greater power. Druids call upon the combined power of earth and water, whilst shamans call upon the more primal elements of fire and air. Priest and paladins rely on what they refer to as the light." She said lightly. "Whether the person is resurrected depends upon the power. The answer usually is yes, and there aren't any problems, but there are things that can inhibit an answer. One of them is not having enough mana to act as a conduit. Another is the physical state of the victim." She said, pausing and taking a drink from the canteen she still had. She shook it, and a little water sloshed around inside it.

"If… If the victim had been dead for a while, then a resurrection won't work. The soul needs a living host to pin itself to, and after about four minutes… after four minutes the body really begins to die. If the body is dead, there isn't anything you can do for the soul. One can salvage a beings magical talent and ability though. I don't know all of the process, but I do know that it involves removing the patients brain and transferring the mana that remains inside into the body of a living host. Its not exactly legal, and it falls under the category of necromancy, but it still happens from time to time." She said quietly.

"It's not something you would do to bring a friend who's too far gone back. You're friend wouldn't exist anymore. It would be a completely different person. Someone who could do pretty much everything your friend could, but it still wouldn't be them. The personalities are almost always different…" She said quietly. Rict was quiet as well, leaning in against her back. Ridania was quiet a moment, glad that she'd been able to find new friends. She opened her mouth to continue speaking, when she noticed something. Or rather, something made itself very evident. Rict was snoring. Ridania smiled a moment, then elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Ugnff, what? What's going on? What's happ-" He looked around wildly. He turned to Ridania, who was smiling cheerfully up at him. He was confused a moment, and then a look of comprehension clicked together on his face. "Oh you just suck." He said, grumbling to himself.

"Oh but I do, Brighteyes." She said, grinning up at him, before climbing up his chest a little bit. There was cough, and Ridania glanced over her shoulder to see Melida looking at them, not at all impressed. Ridania smiled, pushing off Rict. "Go on. You need some sleep anyway."

Rict passed a withering look at Melida, who'd resumed her meditation, before sighing, and lifting Ridania off of him. Muttering darkly about meddling kids, he made his way to his room, his steps a little stiff from walking. Maybe Maiev would be settling in to sleep in the next room over, and he'd get a chance to talk to her before passing out.

----------oOo----------

Venst rolled over again in his bunk. The heat was making it impossible to sleep. Couple that with the fact that he felt exponentially dirtier by the second, and you have a reason to take a shower. He'd been lying in his bed debating it for the past hour, and finally, he decided, yes, it was a good idea. He'd fill the tub with cold water, grab a bucket, and start dumping it on himself. Yeah, that was a great idea.

Enjoying the thought of cooling off, Venst made his way to the washroom that was attached to his bedroom. There was the usual itch in his loins as he began to strip, but he shut it out, instead moving to the tub. He turned the knob, rejoicing in the cool clear water that would begin to flow from it. What he got was a dirty guck, of brownish colour and pudding like consistency. Venst swore to himself, before pulling on his pants.

By the gods he would be clean by this evening.

He set off to find Rupy and Geezle's room, with the intent of borrowing their shower at the fore front of his mind.

----------oOo----------

Maiev collapsed into bed, not even removing the leather tunic and pants she'd worn that day. Shuffling a little with the sheets, she prayed to Elune that she wouldn't dream again this night. Her prayer went un-answered.

As she drift into sleep, the room shifted, warped and changed. What was once the wooden interior of a room was now a cold stone cell. Maiev lay on the ground, long since striped of her outer armour. Water trickled through a small leak in the stone wall. She was trapped in her demonic cell, shivering in the chill of night. She glanced up, and his smoky flaming eyes looked down at her. He approached the bars of her cell, and she glared up at him.

"Come to taunt me again scum? Do you honestly think you're torture methods will work on me?" She growled at him, glaring through the bars to where his eyes used to be. "What is it today? Another beating? Burning my mana? What?" She yelled at him. He didn't move, but the fires of his eyes burned with a silent cold fury.

"No." He said, his voice laced with demonic notes. "No, I've something much worse in mind." He said, opening the bars to the doors. "For all those millennia you had me trapped beneath the earth, I think a different form of torture is in order." He said, locking the cell behind him. The magical enchantment preventing her from blinking out. A pair of figures could be seen from behind the bars, one clad in red robes that seemed strangely familiar, and the other Akama. He watched in silence, cold sadness evident on his face.

Illidan walked up to Maiev, glaring at her the whole while. Maiev sense something was different about him this time. Every other time he'd come in to beat her, he was quick and efficient about it, always healing her when he was done so that she wouldn't die. It had been six months of hell, but Akama always needed additional time to set up the assassination plan.

Illidan grabbed her around the neck, and she blinked out of his grip. His mouth grimacing into a snarl, he raised his right hand, and a bolt of intangible green energy flew out of it. Maiev collapsed to the floor almost instantly. "Mana burning it is then." She growled, struggling against the ground, her limbs on fire. Illidan laughed, moving towards her.

"Oh no my little warden. I've decided ten millennia of torture isn't enough for you. No, I've something much, much worse planned." He said, bending down and cupping her face. He lifted her up so he was eye level with her, and she spat in his face. Illidan laughed again, bringing his fist up into her ribs, winding her. He let her drop to the ground, and she came crashing down heavily. She gasped for air, whilst struggling to her feet. Illidan kicked her in the stomach. Finally she collapsed, simply trying to keep air flowing into her lungs.

Illidan bent down, and sneered at her. She tried to glare up at him, but couldn't manage it through the ongoing battle for oxygen. And then Illidan reached forward, and tore the cloth top from her body. She gasped as the frigid air touched her skin, and her eyes went wide in fear. Illidan grinned to himself, cupping a heavy breast. Maiev reached out to push him away, and he struck her in the head, stunning her. He lowered his head to her face, tracing his tongue along the nape of her neck. Maiev still stunned, continued struggling before he struck her in the head again. Then, he limbs simply went limp. Illidan raised his hand, a small trickle of green light flowing into her head.

"Don't want you passing out Warden." He soliloquized the last word with so much hatred, it seemed to burn her ears as it floated in. Maiev managed to gasp, and he struck her in the chest, knocking any air she could have gleaned from her lungs. And suddenly, Illidan sat back a moment. He looked ponderously for a moment, and then brought one hand down to her right breast. He grinned at her, turning one of the claws on his finger towards her skin. And slowly, agonizingly slowly, he tore a deep line through that skin, across her stomach and down to the lip of her pants.

Any screams she'd been stifling before, whether out of pride, or the knowledge of their futility, came ringing out. He voice was hoarse, and Illidan relished as she shrieked in agony.

"How does it feel? After so many years, how does it feel to be the one experiencing the torture? The Agony!" Illidan raged. Illidan relished in her pain, and lifted himself up. Maiev gasped as the finger slid out of the wound, only to watch in horror as his other hand came down, green flame playing across the underside of his palm. He brought it to the gash, and willed the flame in. A pitch so shrill that she didn't realize it was her at first, escaped her lungs. Illidan laughed, raising his hand from the wound. "Its sweet, is it not?" He said, smiling down at her. He raised the other hand, and sapped her mana, any energy she'd recovered drained instantly.

"You - bastard!" She gasped, tears streaming down her face. Illidan cackled, his decayed teeth flashing a moment. A grin had plastered itself on his face as he sat back. He began cackling to himself, seemingly having forgotten Maiev. It was when she struggled to get free again that he glanced back down at her. A look of deep annoyance, as if she'd interrupted him, crossed his features. Then the grin returned, and the look on his face chilled Maiev to her very core.

"Oh Maiev, my sweet. I've just had a most wonderful…" He whispered, reaching down for the hem of her pants, "Idea!" He cackled. Maiev tried to pry away his hand, but he stuck her in the chest, then the head, both in rapid succession. She collapsed backwards, dry heaves coming from her throat. She couldn't see Illidan anymore, but she felt him. He prised down her pants, and Maiev tried to fight was to come. She gasped again when she felt that same claw had sink into the flesh of her leg. He dragged it upwards this time, soliciting another scream from Maiev. He stopped just as he reached her crevice, pulling the finger up and biting the claw off. He absentmindedly poured those green flames from before into this new wound, and Maiev scream rose an octave. Then she was cut off, as he thrust his finger inside, the act seemingly winding her.

Every part of her fought him, tried to expel the finger, crushing around it pushing it out. She was wet with fear, and Illidan knew it. "Hmm, quite tight for someone so unwilling. Virgin are you? Even after all these years?" He jeered. Maiev struggling, her muscles clamping down around his finger even tighter. He laughed, twisting his finger, causing her to cry out in pain, "You must want this." He cackled, riping the finger out. And Maiev did something she thought she'd never do. She was crying softly now, whimpering to herself.

"Please. Please – I beg you. No – no more." She cried out, her voice barely above a whisper. They seemed to take hold of Illidan though, and he sat back. Relief flooded through Maiev, until she saw his hands. Terror and dread came rushing back as Illidan slowly lowered his pants, exposing himself to her. He was cackling so loudly now, that he didn't here her desperate prayer to Elune.

The scene melted before her eyes, and was replaced with another view of Maiev. She was chained to the floor, green magic shockingly her in place. Illidan was standing above her, pulling his pants up and tightening the rope he used for a belt. Maiev was panting on the ground, tears having long since run out, a trail of semen and blood leaking out from between her legs. She shuddered, in revulsion more then pain. Illidan looked down, and then spat on her.

"Disgusting. I would think you had more pride then that. The tears I'd expected, but, "She grinned down at her. He crouched, stroking her chin. Her silver hair was splayed across the floor behind her, and she continued panting, ignorant to Illidan's touch. "I never would have thought you'd enjoy it." He said laughing at her while he did. Rising from his position, he turned towards the door, blissfully ignorant to the new stream of tears pouring down her face.

"Akama, Kael, have you're fun with the night elf slut. Let the other's join in, if you please." Illidan said, walking out of the room. Akama was silent, while Kael was white faced. There was a crack of green light, and Illidan was gone. A single satyr who'd been attracted by her screams moved forward, rubbing his hands together, and grinning his delight. Maiev saw his approach, but simply did not have the energy to scream anymore. Revulsion for herself, for her body, coursed through her, and she lost contact with the outside world. There were quick footsteps, and something hot fell across her chest. She managed to focus enough to see what was happening.

Kael had severed the satyr cleanly in two, golden blade flashing as it returned to its sheath. The hot feeling on her chest was blood, a sickly black colour. He turned to her, and then approached. Kael, still white faced, stood over her, doing nothing but that. Then he crouched, and a new stream of tears began streaming down Maiev's face. The rough hands she expected were gentle, if quick and purposeful, and they were upon her wrists, then her ankles. Maiev looked up at him, but he turned darkly away.

"I've no love for you or you're wretched race woman. But I'll not see a woman defiled before me if I can stop it." He said quietly. There was a crack of red light, and he was gone.

The scene melted before her eyes, and she was sitting on the ground, crying into Akama's shoulder. Akama did nothing but support her. She shuddered, the roundness of her stomach quite evident. Everything faded to black once again.

Maiev sat alone in the corner of her sell. Tattered clothing tucked close around her, she traced her hand across the rise of her belly. A deep hatred burnt through her mind, for Illidan. For the parasite inside her. For herself. Black faded over once again.

Maiev was screaming. It was a scream she'd never screamed in her life, whilst Akama watched as a Draenei cleric crouched between Maiev's legs. Her armour was piled in a corner of the room, Illidan long since forgotten that she was even imprisoned there. She screamed again, and there was a cry of delight from the Draenei.

"Push mistress Shadowsong. The head is showing, Push!" He cried out, and with one last gut wrenching scream, the infant came sliding out, followed shortly by the after birth. The Draenei wiped the baby off, before handing him to his mother. "It's a boy," he said. Maiev was too exhausted to respond. All the hate she'd harboured for the child, for herself, was flooding out. Everything was going to be alright. She'd get the baby out of here, escape in the night. Illidan no longer cared anymore, and she no longer had the strength to keep hunting him.

Then the child opened its eyes, his mouth opening in delight. Maiev went rigid at the sight. The eyes that stared up at her smoked with green fel energy, the mouth filled with razor sharp teeth. Something unspeakably wrong was emanating from every orifice in the child body. Tears began pouring down Maiev's face as she took the cloth from the cleric. He patted her thigh, "Don't worry. The pain will cease after a while. You aren't bleedi-"

He was cut off as Maiev smothered the child, sobbing while she did it. The baby struggled feebly, its small limbs kicking at that which was hurting it. Akama held the Cleric's shoulder, stopping him from reaching forward and stopping Maiev. Maiev shuddered and cried out, continuing to smother the child until finally the little legs and arms stop moving. Maiev let out one final wail before the scene melted away, soon to be replaced.

Maiev was crying in the opposite corner of the room. She long since stopped going into the other corner. She cried quietly into the night, lamenting her child, herself, her unanswered prayers to Elune.

Then, the scene changed, and Akama was helping her strap on the metal armour. She didn't need the help, but her fingers were numb at the prospect of what they were doing. Finally, after two years in this cell, she would have her revenge. Cold fury burnt across every aspect of her features, but she continued belting on hr armour. Mercenaries were storming the citadel at that very moment, skilled heroes from both factions at war. Akama had just returned from battling a shadow of himself, now coming to get her for the final battle with Illidan.

Maiev felt distant, but she knew, she knew that if Illidan was dead, then she would have her revenge. She took up her crescents, vowing that Illidan would die by her hand this night. He would die for the way he'd endangered her people, for her child, for her! She turned to Akama, "If I do no return, tell my people what we did. Tell them it was Maiev Shadowsong who led this charge against the Betrayer. I don't care how," her voice had dropped to a whisper, her hand tracing across the metal plate covering her stomach, "Just make sure they know." She finished. Akama nodded slowly, and she blinked out of sight, the enchantment on the cell removed. There was black again, and Maiev was standing over Illidan's prone body.

He struggled to rise, but a human female, one of the few survivors of the fight, now being supported by an orc missing an arm, struck out with a jet of energy, sapping whatever mana he had left. Maiev crouched beside him, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Your time is up." She said, pulling out a long slender dagger, with a black tip that didn't match the blade. "This." She said, raising the blade, "Is for my people." She said, turning Illidan over, and tracing a dark line, from the bottom of his right chest muscle, to the seam of his pants. "This." She said, ripping down his pants, "Is for my child." She whispered her voice so quiet Illidan was shaking in fear. She traced the blade up his inner thigh, stopping at his man hood. She raised the blade, "This." She said, plunging the blade into his heart, "Is for Naisha!" She said, pulling it out. "And this." Maiev said, raising the blade,

"Is! For! Me!" She screamed, bringing it sailing down, embedding it into Illidan's skull. The flames that traced the cuts, caused by his own claw, extinguished, and Maiev fell back, knowing he was dead. A voice rung through the terrace.

"You have won... Maiev... But the huntress... is _nothing_... without the hunt... You... are nothing... without... me..." And the voice faded. The scene melted, as with the voice.

Maiev was walking through the valleys of Shadowmoon Valley, no real purpose or aim guiding her. She couldn't go back to her people, couldn't go back to anything. The ghostly image of Illidan's cackling face floated to the forefront of her thoughts. And then, the image changed, shifted, and appeared quite human. Illidan's features dissolved, and melted around, his pointed nose elongating and becoming quite beaky. His hair shifted, and became black and short, tied behind his head in a tight bandana, and it was at this moment that Maiev realized she was no longer dreaming.

Relief coursed through her, and she could remember the entire dream, and it was much better then any previous ones she'd ever had. Maybe she would finally get over this. She'd found a way to direct her life, a new goal to seek. And as she gazed into this man's eyes, still rousing from her dreams, he seemed familiar for some strange reason.

The man struck out, his fist clipping her in the head. Numbness soared through her, the blow coupling with the fact that she was not quite awake yet. But something happened in her body. She knew something bad was going to happen, and the thought swam away from her as he struck her in the head again.

"Not so cocky now are ye' bitch?" He growled down at her. She fumbled to push him away, and he struck her in the chest. This felt all to familiar. Her mind was blurring, and she couldn't track of her thoughts, but one word seemed to be repeating itself over and over again. _No no no no no_… She was gasping for breath, trying to move, but her body wouldn't. The man grinned down at her, several teeth missing from his expression. "Given up eh?" He said, his words slurring together.

He began fumbling with the buckle of his belt, and Maiev eyes went wide with fear. _No no no no no…_ It was going to happen again. She was back in the cell. She began struggling again, and he hit her in the head, stunning her. She could scream, but no one would hear her. Her voice would just echo uselessly across the stone walls, only demons around to hear her cries. Then he reached for her panties, ripping them down, and Maiev lost any control she had over her voice.

It came out, shrill and piercingly strong, rung around the walls of the stone room, before ending abruptly. His hand around her throat, he choked her, his hands crushing down around her neck. The world was fading, turning fuzzy as black dots danced across her vision._ No no no no no._ She tried to breath, but all she heard was a soft click, much like a knife being switched out. Her eyes closed as she struggled against him, pushing as hard as she could. But her body wasn't responding, and her attempts must have seemed feeble. _No no no no no_.

And then air came flooding into her lungs. She gasped, opening her eyes. A figure stood over her, purple robes shaking gently. They shifted abruptly, as the figure kicked the man, now curled into a ball on the ground. The smoky smell of burnt flesh floated into her nose, but Maiev simply gasped for air, content that, maybe it was over, maybe she would be alright. Her body began responding again, and she tried to sit up. Then the purple figure rounded on her, and her heart stopped. The man reached down for her, black hair falling in front of his face. Maiev eyes went wide, but she lashed out, fighting back in a terrified frenzy. She gouged a deep scratch in the man's cheek, and he reared back.

"Ow! Fuck Maiev. Please. Please, calm down. It's me. Rict'thiel. Ow. Calm down!" he yelled, bringing up his hand up to his face. Maiev visibly calmed, then sat back a little, taking fast short breaths. Rict gave her a moment before he tried sitting down beside her. Her breathing began to regulate, with the occasional groans from the man on the ground. He placed his hands on her shoulders. As he touched her, she visibly tensed, then relaxed her muscles. They sat there for several minutes, Maiev crying quietly into his shoulder. She muttered things between her tears, things he didn't understand, after a while, she rose her head. Her eyes were dry, and they bore a look of grim determination. She reached, and pulled her panties up, looking down at the sailor.

He'd chosen that moment to look up, and he froze as he looked into her eyes.

He bolted for the door a second later. Rict intercepted him, a kick aimed for his head, hitting him in the stomach instead. The man collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath. "You bastard!" The words came out of Rict's mouth with such ferocity that it surprised even himself.

----------oOo----------

Shandris pulled her chain mail pants down, tucking them into the basket used to store clothing whilst one was in the bath. Removing her panties, she took one last glance out the door, making sure no late night crew members felt like getting clean, and shut it. She approached the tub, placing her hands on the stone side. It didn't match the rest of the ship, the stone standing out against the wood. But Rupy had said that the stone kept the water heated and cooled better then wood, so it was made of stone. There was only one bath, and she looked in disappointment a steam rolled off the water. It was hot. She'd hoped it would be cold, but this was better then nothing.

Stepping into the tub, she realised it was quite deep, the sides higher then the middle, done so to give people a place to sit. She sat down, wincing a little in pain as her ass touched the seat. However, her muscles reacted instantly to the hot water, and a strange soothing sensation came over them. Shandris sank a little deeper into the water, enough to cover her upper body. The hot water felt really good. The itchy feeling in her bruises lessened to a certain extent, and her hands began absentmindedly running over them.

The tension from the past couple days, not to mention the dramatic shift in company, seemed to soak out of her, draining into the warm water. Her hands kept tracing the bruises, rubbing the occasional one. She sat back, and began to think about what was happening. Eventually, her thoughts traced back to Jarod. She sighed to herself, and didn't realise it as one of her hands traced itself up her thigh. There was a spark of pleasure as she grazed her clit, but if vanished faster then it had come. Shandris sighed to herself.

It had been two hundred years since she'd last seen Jarod. Her mind wandered back to the times they'd spent together. Shortly after the sundering, he'd been tasked off into another portion of Kalimdor. She'd seen him on the off occasions, once, maybe twice a year. Then, two hundred years ago, he'd vanished. Two years later, he sent her a message, saying that he'd been sent to an island in the middle of the ocean. He'd been tasked with encaging a strange serpentine race that lived beneath the sea.

Every year or so, she would receive a letter, but it wasn't the same as seeing him. One of the letters contained the usual answers to her various concerns, even if he didn't know what they were. This letter however, also contained a necklace, with the central pendant snapped neatly in two. In the letter, he said he had the other half. The years went by, and Shandris became more attached to the necklace then most of her Shadowleaves.

Then, roughly thirty years ago, the letters stopped coming. At first it was because perhaps he was on the move, never settling down in one place long enough to be able to send her one. Five years passed though, and she became more and more doubtful. Two years later, she was walking along the edge of a beach on the eastern border of Feralas when she noticed something shinny floating in the water. She broke off from the patrol, and journeyed out to see what it was.

She'd cried for days after she'd found the second half of the necklace. She managed to convince herself for a time that he was still alive, that he'd just lost the necklace, but as the years grew on, she became more and more doubtful. She'd spend nights awake, toying with the wooden beads on the cord, never quite looking at the new complete pendant. When pressed together, the two sides spelt out _eternal_ in Kaldorei, and Shandris had cried even harder when looked at it.

Years passed however, and there was still the lingering pain when she thought of Jarod, but she didn't cry about it anymore. She'd thrown away the necklace though. Looking at it was too much for her, and she knew she needed to move on.

Still, her mind wandered back to all the nights they'd spent together, and she absently began rubbing the inside of her thigh. The hot water was beginning to feel really, really good.

She muttered to herself, and moved to scratch an itch, when she realised that itch was in between her legs. She bit her lip, knowing it wouldn't go away. She hadn't had sex in over two hundred years, and even though she'd experimented with the occasional shadowleaf, a night in Desolace came to mind vividly, it wasn't the same. All the pent up frustration made that itch extremely difficult to ignore, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was rubbing circles around her clit.

The hot water felt really, really, really good. She continued rubbing, occasionally pinching her nub, and moaning as quietly as she could into the water. She even ducked her face under and shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. It didn't work, and she decided she'd take care of it, and then go to bed. Twirling her fingers faster, she slid one inside, while the other continued its circles. She moaned again, this time louder then she'd wanted. She wondered why tonight was so different. There was something about this ship, something that made it that much harder to ignore her needs. She hadn't done this in over a year, but…

The hot water felt really, really, really, really good. She was panting now, trying to stifle her breaths, the hot water not helpful at all. She removed her finger from her slit, and teased the nipple on her right breast. She pulled it a little, relishing in the electric shocks that rang through her when she did. She tried kneading it, but stopped after a short while. Her tits weren't big enough to knead, and she'd never particulary enjoyed it. Jarod had though…

The thought of Jarod acted as a stimulant, and she rubbed even more furiously. The water felt really, really, really, really, really good. She felt close, felt her body tipping over the edge. She'd always been a bit explosive when it came to climaxing, occasional passing out afterwards. The thought of falling asleep only to be found later terrified her, but that fear drove her on instead of holding her back. The feeling between her legs was a constant buzz, the occasional electric shock of pleasure branching off of the constant feeling.

"B- by Elune!" She panted, feeling her body, knowing it was about to go over the edge.

Then she heard footsteps, and the door to the bath opened. Shandris panicked, and dunked her head under the water. She heard words, probably someone calling out to see if anyone was there. Her body screamed at her to finish, but she couldn't risk getting caught. The electric buzz began to diminish, leaving a feeling of deep dissatisfaction in its wake. She stayed under the water, her body beginning to feel the affects of its lack of air. Then, a splash rung out as someone got into the tub, and Shandris felt her blood run cold.

She knew the water wasn't the cleanest, and the steam hid what lay under the surface, but her heart was racing. The sensation of dissatisfaction she'd felt earlier was replaced by a feeling of dread and fear. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, and she could finally hold herself under no longer. She burst through the surface of the water, sucking back greedily at the abundant air around her. She fell back down to the surface of the water, but couldn't see anything. After a moment, she realised her hair, in all its soaking blue glory, was covering her face. Parting it, she still couldn't se much, as everything was a blur, water still in her eyes. However, a red smug was discernable through the water.

"Woah, don't scare me like that!" The man said. Shandris rubbed her eyes, and her heart fell at her bad luck. Venst was sitting opposite of her, maybe ten feet away, his back pressed against the wall of the tub in fear. "Damnit… Fuck." He said, holding his chest. He took a minute, but Shandris didn't move or answer. Finally he continued, "Man, I'm sorry. You just surprised the shit out of me there. Funny, I don't recall seeing any night elf men working on… Holy shit!" He said, backing further into the wall, if that was even possible.

Shandris rose, her mouth coming clear of the water. She was panting, trying to feed her body as much of the steamy air as she could. She glanced up at Venst, who'd fixed his posture. He was still sitting back, but he didn't seem as afraid anymore. Shandris, still panting, looked away from him.

'What the hell are you doing down here?" He said. Shandris took a deep breath, before responding.

"I should ask you the same question. What in the name of the goddess are you doing here?" She said, taking another deep breath. Venst was tempted to say you first, but he chose to spare her and let her catch her breath.

"I was…" He hesitated, and Shandris realised her chest was exposed over the top of the water. She brought one arm over her tits, and Venst shook his head. "The- the water in my room doesn't work. I went to use Geezle and Rupy's but there were, well, going at it. I came down here to get clean." He said, shaking his head again. "Why are you here?" He finished.

Shandris glared at him a moment, but her expression softened. Strange, she remembered his eyes being blue, not a pale red. She couldn't figure out why, but she just answered, "I don't have a bathroom. I don't have any other clothes either. So," She said, glancing at the door, which was closed. "So I thought I'd sneak down here when no one or at least I thought no one… Would be using it." She said, her breathing steadying. Venst nodded, but something peculiar happened to Shandris. Her eyes glazed over a little, and Venst swore under his breath.

The feeling of disappointment had shifted, and turned back into a tingling sensation. Shandris glanced down, and she could see his waist, distorted and hazy as it was, through the water. Venst was looking off to side, extremely quiet but shaking his head. Thoughts began flying through Shandris' head. A tingling sensation, something that seemed completely new to her, began growing between her legs, and she swore under her breath. She hadn't felt like this in over two hundred years. Still though, she couldn't take her eyes off his figure. She glanced down again, and she could tell he was as excited as she was. He was still shaking his head, not looking at her, when a thought crossed through her mind.

'_He's technically a male. He can help me with this… Hell he'd probably love to.'_ She thought, biting her lip. She felt drawn to him by some strange want to be close to his body, to feel him. The tingling sensation was growing, and Shandris began slowly gliding towards him in the water. Venst turned back towards her, and swallowed deeply. Her breasts where visible again, and the tingling in her pussy was driving her insane. This was much more intense then she'd ever felt before, with the tingle normally only reaching the height of a dull, but insistent itch. She was halfway across the tub when the door opened, and Rupy walked in, a towel still drying her hair.

"Hey Venst. Geezle and I are done. You can use our-" She stopped dead when she looked at the tub. Shandris was two feet away from him, still moving. She stopped though, when Rupy began yelling. "Venst! Get the fuck out! NOW!" She screamed, hand cracking with pale blue light. Venst slapped himself in the side of the head, and jumped out of the tub with speed Shandris didn't think possible. He stood on the side, pulling his pants on, and Shandris took a wistful glance between his legs. She'd gotten so close. If only that damn goblin hadn't come down…

Rupy yanked Venst out the door by his arm, pulling him up the stairs. Shandris shook visibly, and the tingling sensation between her legs diminished drastically. She shook her head, swore, then looked at the door again. Her mind mauled over what had just happened.

What the hell was that?

----------oOo----------

The door burst open, the sailor flying through it shortly after, collapsing in a heap on the ground. Rict stormed out, and aimed another kick at the man. He caught him in the leg, and the man flipped over partially. Then Rict was on the ground, pinned by a small, heavy figure. Rict screamed and tried lifting it off, but couldn't all his energy wasted on trying to be as hysterical as possible.

"What the fuck are ye' doing!" The thing on his chest yelled at him. Rict's yell was caught in his throat, and he glanced down. The captain was spread eagled on top of him, pinning him there. "The ruddy hell are you doing attacking on of my men!" He yelled into his face. Rict's features contorted in rage and he looked at the sailor, and pointed his finger as much as he could.

"Rape! That Bastard! Rape!" He snarled, and the captain took a moment, to look at the sailor on the ground. The man's eyes were white with fear, and he made to move, but froze in his tracks. Maiev was standing in the doorway now, bruised and bloody, but alive. Her expression was strange, a grim form of determination and resignation. Something was wrong.

"Is it true?" The captain asked, prising himself off Rict. The Sailor didn't answer, instead struggling to shuffle away, his eyes locked on Maiev. The captain took the clue and growled to himself. On his knees, he signalled for two more men, these ones soldiers, to come forward. "Fine… Detain him until we execute him." Ridania and Melida had appeared, and were peering down over the side of the banister of the upper deck.

The sailor was shuffling away and he tried to rise to his feet when the soldiers started moving towards him. He was gasping for air, the deck aloud with the noise. And then it stopped. There had been a blur, and Maiev was crouching beside the man, a dagger lodged deeply in his neck. There was a look on her face, a strange look of remorse and triumph, as she pulled the blade out and wiped it on the man shirt. Melida let out a small gasp, and the two of them disappeared from view again. The two soldiers stepped back, glancing back at the captain. He stomped his foot, swearing.

"I don't have time fer this shit!" He yelled, turning from Maiev to Rict. Maiev stood up, and walked back to her room, a small look of disgust and… relief? evident on her face. Rict was rubbing in between his eyes, but when the captain spoke, he gazed up angrily.

"What the hell do you mean we don't have time for this?" He yelled. The captain walked over and grabbed his ear, twisting his head to look over the side of the ship. Rict was about to hit him, force him to let him go, when the captain yelled again.

"Look around ye' bleedin' twit!" He yelled into Rict's ear. The sound rung through it, and Rict winced, but the captain let go of his ear. He glanced over the side of the ship.

Thousands of balls of light were floating on the horizon.

----------oOo----------

Rupy shoved Venst hard against the wall on the upper deck. Venst struggled a little, but she pinned his hands to the wall with her own. She knew that if he wanted to, he could break free, but he didn't.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She whispered, her voice much to high and raspy for it to actually be considered as such. She punched him in the stomach, forcefully enough to remind him that she wasn't messing around, but lightly enough not to hurt him. "You know you can't do it. Don't you remember what happened last time?" She growled. Venst face was red.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He yell whispered back at her. "I didn't ask for this. I can't stop her from fucking around. What the hell am I supposed to do?" He said, pushing her arms off him.

"That's not the point Venst! If I hadn't come down to get you." She whispered back. She glanced over her shoulder, then took a deep breath. "You could have killed her Venst. Do I have to remind you about Vanessa?" She said, her voice even but carrying a deadly tone. She jabbed a finger into Venst's stomach to emphasise her last word. Venst snapped.

"No! You don't have to! I know what I'm doing!" He yelled at her, drawing the attention of one of the sailors on deck. Rupy looked over her shoulder, then grabbed Venst and stuffed the two of them into a small cubby on the deck. "I've been feeding her for years now! No ones died!" He growled at her, his voice dropping down again.

Rupy glared up at him, but was silent a moment. Taking a deep breath, she felt the air shift around her ever so slightly. She calmed enough to continue, "Venst. That's not the point. I don't know how many women you use to feed her, but if they aren't dying then it must be a lot. Don't add this one to the lot." She said, taking a step back. Scratching her leg, she glanced up at him. His eyes shone down at her, the blue of them saturated faintly with a pale red.

"I can have sex without feeding her. Besides, I've never heard any of the women complain." He said, his voice strangely calm, but it still carried angry notes with every vowel. Rupy slapped her face into her palm, seething out a little before looking back up. The red was a little more noticeable now. A faint red was also showing on Rupy's cheeks, and she wiped her forehead from the night's heat.

"They don't complain because they're addicted to you!" She growled back.

"Well its better then them being dead." He said, his voice an octave higher, and more drawn out. Rupy swore under her breath, and wiped her face again. "They don't get addicted enough to come looking for me. They just love it when I show up." He whispered. The air buzzed a little around him and Rupy, and Rupy felt something she hadn't felt in a while. There was a tingling sensation between her legs. She glanced up at Venst, huffing out a breath, but he was gone, his eyes completely red. Rupy swore again, and wanted to move away, but her body wouldn't let her. Venst grinned down at her, crouching a little.

"Feeling a little dissatisfied after you're shower hmm Rupe?" He said, his voice smooth, its tone interlocked with something highly sultry and feminine. "I know how long its been since you've been pleased. I can feel it coming off you. You stink of frustration." He whispered into her ear, before straightening up. Rupy swore again, and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The tingling between her legs was growing and she was blushing deeply, both in embarrassment and arousal. She couldn't remember the last time Geezle had been able to hit the ball, and her body was screaming at her to let Venst step up to the plate. Rupy raised her head back a little bit.

_**Now, before we can continue, let's remember certain things about Goblins. Goblins are short, coming up to about you're waist, and they tend to be wide. As they had set sail, Rupy had stopped wearing the comfortable smock she wore in the bath house she used to own. She'd purchased new cloths, a simple linen skirt and top, the skirt coming down to her knees. The top was a regular shirt, with the sleeves cut short to help with the heat. Her gut wasn't as large as the smock she used to wear made it look, and the shirt showed an average belly beneath its fabric. She'd also tied her hair back in the bandana she always had with her, and she looked a lot like her younger self. So this noted, she isn't unattractive, just not trim and fit like fashion says you should be. Remember also, that goblins live a lot longer then humans, and though she was much older then Venst, if you compared their two ages, she was actually younger then Venst if you compared the amount of how long they'd lived to how long their races normally lived. So, we can see where Rupy's problem is coming from.**_

The tingling between her legs was growing. She couldn't remember the last time Geezle had been able to hit the ball, and her body was screaming to let Venst step up to the plate. Rupy raised her head back a little bit.

And sent her forehead slamming into Venst crotch. He cried out, slumping back a little bit, holding his damaged goods, while Rupy shook her head out. The feeling between her legs diminished, and the tension in the air vanished. Rupy took a few moments, and realised she'd been holding her breath. She was panting for air; whilst Venst straightened up, extremely quiet. She glanced up at him, and he glanced down. Brown eyes met blue ones, and Rupy let out a sigh of relief. She bumped his thigh.

"Thanks Rupy. I… I needed that. It was just, she was already out, and I was already…"

"Yeah. I know." She said, sighing and leaning against the wall.

"No, I really shouldn't… I mean whatever happens between you and Geezle…"

She glanced up at him, "I know. Don't worry." She said, a little more irate. Venst leaned against the wall behind him, taking a few deep breaths. After he'd had a moment, he continued.

"You know, sometime I wished she hadn't brought me back. I just. I hurt her. It's my fault." He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if to fight back a headache. He opened them when he felt a small fist against his leg. Rupy, tears now streaming down her face, was shaking her head at him.

"No. Don't say that. Don't ever say that. So- so few of us made it out. If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't have my Razz." She whispered, punching his leg again. Venst swallowed, crouching down and letting her hold on to him. She shuddered a little bit, and he let her hold on to him for a few minutes. Finally, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. "I… I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I- I'll go to bed." She said, shuffling back a bit. Venst nodded, knowing better then to try and prod.

He watched as she walked across the deck, disappearing through the doorway adjacent him.

'_Excellent. Now we can go back and see to the night elf.'_ The voice said in his head. Venst shook his head, trying to unsettle her a little.

"No."

'_Please. Don't try to deny it. Let's get some ass!' _She growled in his mind.

"No. Go fuck yourself." And he began walking towards his room.

'_Wish I could.' _She chuckled back.

----------oOo----------

Melida was crouched down, taking deep breaths, Ridania's hands on her shoulders. She'd just seen Maiev kill the sailor, and she wasn't taking it well. Unbeknownst to her though, Ridania was letting a small amount of energy flow into her through her shoulders, calming her over time. Melida would need to learn to deal with death one way or another, but Ridania was sure as hell going to make sure it wasn't going to traumatize her.

Rict could still be heard, but his voice had vanished a few minutes ago. It sounded as if he'd gone back into the ship. Ridania stared hard at the glowing lights off in the distance. Melida still hadn't seen them, but Ridania was already feeling better. Melida's breathing became less and less raged as the minutes went by, finally subsiding to small sniffs. She looked up at Ridania, who removed her hands.

"Why- why'd that happen?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. Ridania sighed, not really knowing what was going on to being with. She'd heard Rict yelling, and seen Maiev kill some sailor. The captain was frustrated because he was trying to dock the ship. Ridania was still a little off kilter from what had just happened.

"I… I don't know Melida. I think that guy was… Melida?" Said Ridania. Melida wasn't looking at her anymore though, her eyes wide, starring at the floating balls of light. A few of them were hovering over the ship's dock, just a little out of reach. They were all white, with the occasional blue one speckled in between them. Ridania grinned to herself, knowing Melida would start feeling better about what had just happened in seconds. Maiev couldn't have picked a better moment to kill that guy, whoever he was. The bright light coming from the dock that'd been bothering her for the past minute subsided, and Rict appeared up the stairs. He was sweating a little, panting lightly from the exertion Ridania could only guess was cremating the sailor. He helped Ridania to her feet, and opened his mouth to talk, but Melida beat him to it.

"What are those?" She said, her voice filled with quivers of excitement and wonder. Ridania grinned, helping Melida to her feet. She didn't answer though, turning to Rict instead.

"How's Maiev? What the hell happened." She whispered to him. He gritted his teeth, rubbing between his eyes. He told her what had happened, and when she asked about Maiev again, he responded a little louder.

"I don't know. It's weird. She seemed better then she'd seemed since I'd met her. It doesn't make sense." He said, turning to look at the balls of light. Ridania gave a side long glance at the floating orbs, smiling to herself. She understood Maiev's reaction, or at least part of it. "She's in my room now. I made sure it was locked before I took care of the bastard. What are those things?" He asked.

Ridania grinned, placing her hand on his shoulder. "They're Fae." She said, looking up at the ski. Over the edge of the boat, you could see the dock of the Isle coming into view. The number of lights were multiplying, and they hovered maybe fifteen to twenty feet off the ground, far out of reach, with the exception of the few blue ones, which bobbed this way and that. Only one of the blue ones was near the ship, and the remaining space was occupied by white ones.

"What are Fae?" Melida asked, still not looking away. Ridania gave off a proud smile.

"Now that's something I can answer for you." She said, leaning against the rail. "Fae, are kind of like the embodiments of energy. I mentioned being a conduit for a greater power, and that's pretty much what a Fae is. The difference though, is that a Fae has a massive amount of mana and energy, but doesn't posses the ability to use it. Look a little closer if you can. Fae have somewhat humanoid bodies, but they lack fingers, toes or mouths. They have no method of using magic, or at least, I've never seen them use any." She said, watching as the single blue Fae moved in front of them. It floated a little lower, and Melida looked closer.

"This one has a mouth." She said, pointing at it. Ridania nodded.

"I was getting to that. The blue ones seem to be able to sing, although they still don't seem to be able to use any magic at all. The songs they sing though, seem to enhance the sense of Euphoria that's created by any Fae."

Rict glanced at her, "Euphoria?" He said serenely.

"Its why you don't feel like shit now. The Fae are making you feel better. Its affecting Maiev too. And me," She said, tossing a coy grin Rict's way. He smiled sheepishly, whilst Melida eyes the two of them.

"Anyway, these Fae showed up after the Sunwell was restored. They weren't here before, but I think the restoration of the Sunwell is what caused it. They extremely powerful magic entities, like I said, and they can bond to things. I've seen them bond to a dragonhawk, and the poor animal exploded from a magical overload. Mana remnants everywhere, wasn't pretty. They can only bond to something with the capacity to store massive amounts of energy. So, particularly good spell casters can have one bond to them. I can't. I Doubt you could Rict." She said.

And then her hand struck out, slapping Melida away from the blue Fae that had hovered close to them. "I just told you not to touch them!" She yelled. Melida looked at her quizzically, grinned, and responded.

"Sorry. Its just really pretty."

Ridania sighed, putting her hand over her face, a muttered something about stupid kids, but after that she was all smiles again. The throng of lights over top of them had thickened, and the sense of euphoria was growing.

"Its alright. Still though… Just don't do it again. Anyway, as I was saying," She said, turning back to the Fae floating over head, "They can bond to people. The grand Magistrate of the Shattered Sun Offensive has one, as does Velen, the Draenei prophet. I said they acted as a conduit, because they do. Any spells cast by the spell caster is replicated by the Fae. It costs twice as much energy to cast it, but the Fae comes with a substantial amount of mana too. Also," She said, moving her hands around the contour of the blue Fae as it fluttered past them, "They transform physically. They turn into a carbon copy of they're bonded, right down to the clothing. Its actually quite amazing. Really, you'd have to see it to believe it. They still can't make any coherent sound, but the blue ones continue to sing. And they get the fingers and toes they lacked before. Really, its pretty awesome."

"But none of us can have one." Melida said, looking a little sullen despite the Fae above her.

"Not without exploding. Maybe one day, when you learn everything you can possibly learn about druidism, you could. But first you need to learn to-"

"Commune with nature. Gotcha." Melida finished, walking down the stairs, probably to the kitchen or her room.

"Get you're stuff, we'll stay at the Inn on the island tonight. My treat!" Ridania called after her. She turned to back to Rict, who was looking at her suspiciously.

"Explain."

"Huh?" She said, not quite understanding.

"How do you know so much about these things." He continued. Ridania laughed, stretching her arms.

"Oh, that's easy. I was in the neighbourhood when the Sunwell battle went down, and I came by to check out the aftermath. I spent a good four months studying these suckers before heading down to Stormwind. I had to see someone, but she wasn't there. By then, I'd started running out of money, soI figured I'd head up to Northrend to make some more." She answered.

Rict nodded, "Okay. I didn't need to life story. But… what were you doing around here to begin with."

Ridania was silent a moment, but the smile on her face didn't falter. "That's a long story Rict." Said, standing up straight again. "Come on, let's get our stuff. We'll land pretty soon."

Rict nodded, if a little reluctantly, and the two went off to their respective rooms.

----------oOo----------

Brann ducked behind a crate, firing another shot into the throng of the battle near the gates. The Vrykul were breaking through the initial defences near the perimeter of the Allies encampment, but their forces were wearing thin. Brann could only hope they didn't realise that the Allies were wearing down faster. The Draenei in the back of the room was working frantically, and she'd already mended three soldiers, sending them back out to fight. So far, none of them had returned, which was either a good or bad sign. Brann hoped for the first.

He'd gotten pinned down at the perimeter hospital, and he'd been protecting that Draenei ever since he'd gotten there. For all her merits though, she was wasting time with her first aid equipment. Brann figured it was to conserve mana, but right now wasn't the time.

The chim form his rifle sounded and he took another shot, carefully using the scope. He dropped a worg in mid leap towards an Ally grunt. He glanced around looking for his saviour. That moment cost him his life, Brann watched with disgust, as he was impaled by a Vrykul spear. A forth soldier ran out the door, screaming bloody murder, and the Draenei set to work on the last one. Her hands flew over him frantically, sowing and healing, but all Brann could do was make sure she wasn't interrupted.

He jumped out of the way as a spear came flying towards him in the doorway. There was a scream, but Brann was facing the wall, and it took him a moment to recover his balance. The Draenei was standing up, looking a little white but unharmed. The soldier she'd been mending on the other hand, was dead, the spear impaled in his neck. Blood was leaking on to the floor, spreading out around the corpse. Brann glanced out the door, and swore as the throng battling was pushing towards the harbour. The hospital was surrounded on the front, and Brann turned around.

Grabbing the Draenei by the hand, he bolted to the back of the back of the hospital. The building was over looking a steep, if short cliff, which had a side road that rose up and passed over the valley the base had expanded into. As Brann hit the back doors, he kicked them open, not waiting for the Draenei to unlock them. He glanced at the Draenei, still white faced, and nodded, before pulling on his black gloves and jumping over the edge, his body facing the cliff. He grinded down the edge, slowly picking up speed, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. The Draenei looked down at him, then over her shoulder. Whatever she must have seen acted as a stimulant, because she pitched herself over the edge.

Brann braced himself to catch her, but she slowed down as she neared the end of her fall, ending gracefully, if a little unbalanced, on her feet. Several Vrykul were at the patio now, and one of them pitched a spear at the two of them. Brann grabbed the woman by the arm, and the two of them bolted down the path. As they ran, Brann grabbed a wounded soldier who's been sent flying by an explosive blast of magic, and hauled him with them with surprising strength.

They reached the level part of the pass, and Brann growled in relief as he saw a group of soldiers dug in up ahead, firing shots down into the throng below. He put on a burst of speed, and he and the Draenei made it over the barricades. The woman immediately set to work treating the man Brann was carrying, and Brann turned, firing shots back into the battle, reloading manually now.

He could only hope they would last through the rest of the night. He fired another round. If it was up to him, they would. He dropped a vrykul mage, re-adjusting his aim on a death knight. A death knight? Brann swore, firing as many rounds as he could into the man. Eventually he retreated, his arm damaged. The vrykul took no notice, but Brann was just happy he'd made the abomination leave.

If it was up to him, they'd last the night. And it seemed it was.

----------oOo----------

Rict held his small bag, it's contents a change of underwear and the sword Varian had given him, snugly under his arm as the four of them entered the inn. It was draped in silks of varying shades of blue, and walls were panted in gold paint. The clerk at the desk looked at them, then her face brightened.

'Ridania, Mistress Shadowsong, its wonderful to see you both. Four rooms?" She asked, obviously getting right down to business, which was just as well considering how late it was. Ridania, who'd been giving Maiev a side long glance, shook her head.

"Nah, just two. You don't mind sharing with Melida right Maiev?" She said, giving Rict a playful nudge. He brightened up immediately. It has been three long boring days, and the prospect of another night with Ridania was like crack. Maiev nodded, a serene, if distant, look on her face. "Great, two it is. Thanks Clar'isca" The blood elf nodded and her expression seemed a little weary if cheerful. She passed Ridania four keys, who then distributed them accordingly. They turned to go up the stairs, but Clar'isca called after them, "Mind the wards! There's still a lot of Scourge on the island!" She called after them.

Rict and Melida glanced at Ridania, but she told them not to worry about it. They reached their rooms, and Rict and Ridania watched as the other two went in. After the door locked behind him, Rict turned to Ridania.

"She seems fine." He said, looking at the door.

"Yeah, surprisingly so. Must be the Fae." Ridania said, unlocking her door.

"I just hope she stays alright." Rict said.

"Maybe you should worry about you're present problems. Like me." She grinned form inside the room. Rict looked at her, and realised she'd somehow managed to worm out of her leather top, leaving only the silk bra she'd bragged about on. Rict grinned, going inside, muttering his thanks to Darnassian seamstresses.

----------oOo----------

There were two beds, and Maiev moved to the window, looking out. She opened it after a moment, then turned and made her way to the door. Melida called after her, but she didn't answer, leaving Melida alone in her room. Melida huffed to herself, but if what she thought had happened earlier had happened, then she figured she'd cut Maiev a little slack.

Two hours passed as Melida tried to fall asleep in her bed. She just couldn't manage it, and the fact that one of the blue Fae was hovering outside her window wasn't helping. Finally, she rose from the bed, and figured watching the lights might make her sleepy. As she approached the window, that good feeling brought on by the Fae intensified a little. She watched the blue Fae flutter around the window, and her body began to relax.

She spent several minutes watching this, relishing in the comfortable feeling coursing throughout her body. Then the Fae began to flutter away, and a feeling of dread flowed through her. _No. Not yet!_ Melida looked around, and noticed vines growing along the wall, about three feet from her window. She stepped onto the window sill with practised ease, having it done it many time back in Stormwind, and sprang to the vines.

She almost missed them, grabbing hold at the last moment. She clung there a moment, and let the fear of falling subside. She glanced at the Fae, and saw that it was floating near the ground now, a little off to the side of the road. The Fae was looking at her too. The feeling of Euphoria was back now, and Melida clambered quickly down the vines, slipping a few times, but after a minute, she was on the ground. The Fae wasn't looking at her anymore, and was floating away from the town. It fluttered over a faint glowing line on the ground, and Melida hesitated as she approached it. The sense of happiness was gone again, and Melida crossed the line to get it back. The line glowed extremely bright, and the white light flowed over Melida, into the Sphere around her neck.

Melida continued to follow the Fae as it fluttered through the ruins of the island. It was dark now, and the lights of the town were little more then glimmers over the pale white line in the distance that she'd just crossed. The Fae glanced back at her, looking mischievous, as it flew deeper into the ruins. The ground was cracked, and a little dead now, but Melida had eyes only for the Fae. She didn't feel the sense of dread building around her blue bubble of light, as the Fae above her flew more frantically then before. She didn't notice the occasional shift of movement in the distance, or the sickening crunch of something she couldn't recognize.

Did notice however, when she almost stepped on a Ghoul. The creature glared up at the blue light, seemingly unaware of Melida, and Melida froze. The ghoul still didn't move, instead shrinking away from the light being cast off by the Fae. Melida looked up at the Fae, and noticed something peculiar about it. Its arm, the left one, was slung up in some kind of fabric, black markings all over it. The Fae continued fluttering, before taking a glance back at Melida. Melida looked back down at the Ghoul, it still having not noticed her.

Then she panicked, and bolted. The moment she'd stepped out of the glow coming off the Fae, the ghoul looked at her. Its elfish features contorted into what might have been a smile, and it tore after her. Melida looked over her shoulder, and saw that both the Fae, it's face distorted in what may have been concern or mischief, and the ghoul were following her, the Fae slightly faster then the undead.

Melida ducked around a corner, and into a run down elven building. She fell against the wall, and watched in relief as the ghoul ran past the entrance. As she watched, she didn't notice the crunch of many footsteps. They rang out again though, this time attracting her attention. She couldn't see anything, until the Fae she'd been with came fluttering in through the door. The pale blue light cast off by the Fae illuminated five ghouls, just as they sprang towards Melida.

Melida fell backwards in fear, her hands flying wildly, a sense of despair flowing over her as all the light around her extinguished.

Oo------------oO

Bah. Alrighty. Some serious character development there. Venst is shaping up quite nicely, and the story is starting to pick up. Also, if you just read that, well then that was my longest chapter to date, being 13,310 words long.

Anyway, I've had barely anytime at all on my computer lately, and I can only type 1000-2000 words an hour, so apologies for the delay. I was hoping to get this done last Friday, but w.e.

Thanks also the Sygnya and Canis for the reviews. Constructive criticism is always appreciative, as I'm always trying to work on my writing skills.

Anyway, til next time.


	11. Lectures, Fire and Sex

Rict was lying on his back, breathing deeply. Ridania swallowed the last of her pink vial, placing the empty vial back into her pack. Rict still couldn't figure out how she managed to fit all her stuff into a single rucksack, but then, there were a lot of things about Ridania that confused him. He finally managed to get up the nerve to ask a question that had been bothering him for a while.

"So uh… Is there something special about me? Or do you sleep with all the guys you meet." He said, coughing at the end of that last bit, hoping it would alleviate the bluntness of the question. It didn't. Still, Ridania laughed, sporting a wicked grin as she answered.

"Pretty much."

Rict's heart dropped for a second, but he followed up with a comment anyway.

"Oh. I suddenly don't feel so special…"

Ridania laughed at him again, before reclining and placing an arm over his chest.

"Don't worry about it Brighteyes. You 'special'," She said, rubbing her head on his neck while she enunciated _special_. Rict glared at her, his breath still coming in deeply. He was out of shape. "But in all seriousness, yeah, I kind of do. If I can stick with someone, more power to me, but if push comes to shove…"

Her voice trailed off, but Rict wanted to know more. He shook his chest a little, unsettling her, "Hmm? I'm all agog here, fill me in. What do you mean when push comes to shove?" He asked, ruffling her hair a little. His black hair was frazzled, hanging around him, some of it even draping onto Ridania shoulders. She tried dodging the question,

"This is really long." She said, holding up a lock of the black hair. "You should cut it."

Rict huffed, brushing the hair form her hand, "Don't dodge the question. What do you mean?" He asked, but there was a mix of curiosity and annoyance in his voice now too.

"Nothing. Nothing…" Rict sighed, brushing a hand through his hair.

"I'll let you cut all this hair if you tell me."

She glanced up, and ran her fingers through the black hair, stopping at the occasional knot. She seemed to hesitate a moment, but finally buckled after a good thirty seconds. "However short I want it?" She said, running through it again, tugging a little at the knot.

"Within reason." Rict said warily. Ridania nodded absently. "Come on," He said, tapping the side of her head, "Spill it."

Ridania mumbled something into his shoulder, but Rict wasn't going to take any of that. He shoved her gently, and she sighed. She said something this time, her voice barely audible. Rict leaned in a little, cupping a hand to his ear.

"I'm sorry? I can't hear you." He said.

She grumbled something again, still too quiet for Rict to hear her.

"One more time." Said Rict, leaning closer still.

"Guh. Fine. When you're a druid, you get… Urges." She said, looking away. This made Rict raise his eyebrow. The fine line arched and he continued,

"Urges…?"

"When you transform into animals as a living, you take on some of their characteristics… And it just happens to be mating season."

Rict laughed, shaking his hair a little as he did so. Ridania mimed a pair of scissors with her fingers. After laughing his fill, Rict finally continued. "So, I guess I can't expect this sort of treatment from other night elves?" He said, joking.

Ridania nodded, Rict not noticing the dips and rises of her head. Realising that, Ridania piped up, "Actually, you probably can." She said. Rict choked off his laugh a little. He tossed her a confused glance, which she answered with, a light punch to the chest, and, "Wow. You seriously don't know much of Night Elven culture." She said, grinning more to herself then him.

Rict rolled his eyes playfully, "Then by all means, enlighten me professor." He propped himself up on his pillow, for another one of, and by now he was used to these, Ridania's lectures.

"Well, I guess I'll start off with how Night Elves have an extremely low pregnancy rate. So, we tend to have a lot of sex right off the bat. If we didn't well, we'd die out."

"Alright."

"In addition to that, having sex is seen as a ritual of purification."

"I'm sorry?" Rict asked, now genuinely confused.

"For mage, you sure don't know a lot about magic…" She sighed to herself a moment, "Alright. Magic is controlled primarily by emotions, and perceptions. Actually, scratch that, emotions and beliefs. Have you ever noticed that your magic seems more powerful when you frightened or angry? That the emotions fuelling your spells. It sort of acts as an amplifier for your magic. Also, when your mind is in a tryst, you ability to control the flow of mana through your body gets weaker, so you put more oomph into your spells. Doing too much of this can be really dangerous, but its very handy in desperate situations."

Rict, nodded every one in a while, asked, "Okay, but what did you mean by beliefs?"

"I was getting to that. Don't rush me… Anyway, your emotions are what helps you use magic. But you draw magic in from around you, and, given enough time, that magic begins to settle inside you. That's the reason old spell casters are particularly powerful. Not just because they've been using magic for so long and tons of practise. It's also the fact that their very body is part of the spells now. It's the same way with objects."

Rict just nodded, figuring he was still missing some part of this conversation.

"So, tell me, when you think of innocence and purity, what comes to mind first. Besides the colour white." She said, sliding a hand over his chest. The muscles had become less sculpted, but all the magic Rict had been practising with had prevented any fat from storing up.

"Mmh. I guess I'd have to say a child." He answered, thinking of Melida for a moment.

"Bingo and how does one go about creating a child?" Ridania said, sliding her hand lower.

"They-" His voice hitched in his throat, "that." He said, glaring playfully at Ridania.

"Now we're getting it. Anyway, because most of my people believe in this so firmly, even the magically inept can find true healing by… Playing in a moonwell."

"So… If I walk into… Darn… uh…"

"Darnassus."

"Darnassus, right. If I go strolling into Darnassus right now, I'd find a bunch of night elves humping in moonwells?"

Ridania looked at him hard for a moment, and then struck him hard in the arm. Much harder then Rict would have thought someone with her frame possible.

"We're discreet about it." She said sourly. Rict chuckled, nodding. He glanced out the window, enjoying the view of the stars that dotted the horizon. Slowly, they began to wink out as the clouds from the east slid in, gently enveloping each one, until finally they all disappeared. The only illumination left to him was that of the Fae floating gently by outside.

"It's a shame there aren't any moonwells around here." He said, fingering the scars on his hand.

-----------oOo-----------

Maiev opened the door to the room, enjoying the slight perfumed scent of the air inside as it floated into her nostrils. It helped alleviate the tension and frustration in her at the moment. She'd gone out looking for a moonwell to bath in, her scars beginning to act up again, and had come back disappointed to find there were none. She shouldn't have been surprised; this was a bloodelven settlement after all.

She slammed the door in irritation anyway, and then mentally scolded herself for probably waking up Melida. As if in answer to her thoughts, she felt the gentle rustle of the wind against her skin. The bed was empty, and the window open.

Before she could think on this though, a noise broached her ears. It was far off, almost silent, but Maiev had come to learn those scream intimately. Another, much like the one before rung quietly in her ears, before being cut short. Maiev swore to herself. She knew those screams. Grabbing her bag, she shoved all the things she'd taken out, and began belting on her armour with a speed and precision of millennia of practise. She slid her helmet on, and grabbed her crescents. She noted absently that she'd intended to sharpen them this eve, but all this was forgotten as she shifted into her combat mentality. Purging any un-necessary thought from her mind, she nearly tore the door off its hinges as she ran across the hall to get the other two.

This night just got a lot more complicated.

----------oOo----------

Melida screamed, time seemingly slowing down for her. A million thoughts ripped though he head at once, one of them curious if this sense of everything was slower then reality was what happened before you die. It was drowned out by another part of her mind trying to find some part of her training to help her. In the end, it was Rict who saved her.

Her eyes couldn't see the ghouls, as she fell backwards, and even though part of her registered something hot and squirming in her hand, the rest of her was frozen in fear as she heard the ghouls fall towards her. Time, still running slowly for her, ticked by agonizingly slowly, and even though she realised she should run, her muscles wouldn't listen.

Bright light burst before her eyes, and Melida began to cry. She was on her way to see her mother. She'd tell her how she'd met Ridania, how she'd finally begun to start feeling a place of belonging in this world, no matter how strangely that sense was contrived from. And then, a part of her actually began to look forward to perhaps meeting the mother she'd never met. She started to welcome the warm feeling of the bright whit light dancing before her eyes. She reached for it tentatively. The images of Check's dead friend, his body burning among a pile of other dead raced through her mind, and somewhere, her mind catalogued it, mourned him and the others, and moved on. It was getting ready to die, and another part of Melida's mind wondered why dying didn't hurt like she'd thought.

And then, as if triggered by this thought, she began to feel pain. Two areas in particular bothered her. Her hand, still clamped tight around whatever was struggling was throbbing in pain, as if on fire, and her head was experiencing a sharp pain right between her eyes as the glare began to dissipate. Melida opened her hand, and a bright blue light flooded her eyes where for a fraction of a second, there had been only darkness again. As then, he eyes re-adjusted, and she registered where she was.

She was still on the floor of the building, and as the pale blue light floated up, she noticed the remains of three ghouls still burning before her, white flames licking anything they could touch. Melida still didn't realise what was going on. Part of her mind was still on her way to meet her mother. She didn't fully wake up until there was pulse of white light beside her, and another undead, this one a skeleton that still bore at striking resemblance to the blood elf it once was, collapsed, the same white flames chewing at the bones at flesh.

Melida, scrambled up, and glanced in the direction of the light. To her own astonishment, she saw herself. A small, translucent version of herself floating in the air before her. She glanced out, and saw no undead nearby, so she took a closer look. Upon thorough inspection, she realised it was not only herself floating before her. Her body seemed to be outlined in some sort of sphere that seemed strangely familiar. She didn't have time to place it, because the miniature version of herself looked panicked. It was pointing and using all the visual gestures it could to tell her they needed to get the hell out of there.

Melida, feeling that it as right to follow this things instructions, began to run. After that, her body just took over. She noticed absent minded, as she ran that the creature was giving off not a white light, but a faint purplish white light. Something bumped hard against her chest, and she glanced down as she ran. The verdant sphere Rict'thiel had given her pulsed gently with the same light as that of the creature in front of her.

She didn't get a chance to dwell on that though. The nearby scourge had begun to chase after her. Whenever one got too close, that same white fire would engulf it, and it would collapse not seconds later. Melida, if she'd taken the time to look, might have noticed that one of the scourge actually managed to grab onto he ankle, and its hand ripped free of its burning body. Its fingers gripped tightly, Melida never saw as it was turned to so much ash.

What she did see though, was the town before. Even as she ran towards it, the flames glittered across her eyes.

Oo--------------oO

Back from Hiatus. School really has me bogged down, what with Chem, Physics, advanced French and math + English.

Anyway, mes amis, I've decided that shorter chapters, released more quickly, will be better then big chunks of story. Expect them to be between 2000-4000 words long for now on. No more 13000 word chapters. Hehe.


	12. Isle of Hell'Danas

Maiev struggled with the handle on the door, trying a few times in vain to prise it open. Rict and Ridania seemed to have locked it, and she didn't have time to bother with picking the lock.

----------oOo----------

Rict pulled Ridania onto his lap, burying his face in her chest, knowing contentedly with a renewed vigour. Chewing happily, he heart sank as the door to the room burst open, presenting him with a view of a booted foot, followed by Maiev in full battle dress. Rict's mouth fell open slightly, and Ridania's breast fell out, which was just as much, since she was already removing herself. Pulling the covers over her chest, she yelled at Maiev.

"What the Hell are you do-"

"Melida's gone. We're under attack. Get dressed."

Before Ridania could respond, there was a popping sound, and Maiev was gone, a faint cloud of smoke the only evidence that she'd even been there. Rict and Ridania glanced at each other, both a profuse shade of red, and began scrambling for clothes.

----------oOo----------

The captain was looking over some documents. Various lists of supplies, equipment, and even a confirmed requisition for extra batch of fuel sat before him. He needed to look into getting some mages on board permanently. As much as he preferred real sailors, the mages could load a ship in record time. All that was left for him to do was oversee the communicator that was going to be installed tomorrow, and pay the appropriate people, and he could set sail. Looking forward to an early night, he began to organise the various bills.

Then a gust of wind and a sharp popping sound tore through the office. Papers flying, the dwarf swore as he spotted the night elf in front of him.

"What the bloody fu-"

"The island is no longer secure captain. We need to leave as soon as possible." Maiev said, pulling her helmet off. The captain looked at her, open mouthed for a moment, before trying to articulate a response.

"Are ye mad? We're no yet finished with the resupplyin'!"

In response, Maiev held out the head of a ghoul, coagulated blood dropping in the occasional chunk. She tossed it onto the floor in front of him.

"Ruddy hell!"

"I take it you believe me now?"

The captain swallowed, nodding. Maiev cleared her throat.

"I'll wake them men and get em armed."

"No time. I have some important persons I need to get onboard, and then we need to leave."

"The hell we are! There's no way-"

Maiev cut him off with a slicing motion of her hand, sending a knife through his window and into the head of a geist.

"We don't have time for that. You need to get this ship ready to leave as soon as possible."

"I- I…" He stopped a moment, then cleared his throat. "No."

Maiev looked at him incredulously. "There are legions of scourge out there. We can't save them. We need to leave with our lives now. I'll not have my charges die because you wished to save a few blood elves."

"I said no. I'll have this ship ready to go in one hour. That'll give a chance to any survivors to get on-"

"You cant do th-"

"If! If you want to make it out of here with your charges, then I suggest you get them onboard and defend the ship until we leave."

Maiev's response was to simply blink out.

----------oOo----------

Ridania was the first to clear the doorway, with Rict close behind her. The blade given to him by Varian secured around his waist, he followed after Ridania, who led them both with ease back down through the winding hallways of the inn. They hit the top of the entrance staircase when Maiev winked back into existence, several meters behind them, facing the other direction.

"Maiev, come on!" Rict called, turning back to the staircase. Ridania had run ahead, and was scrambling on the tiled floor. She stopped, and panted in relief as she sighted Clar'isca, calling out.

"Clar, we need to go!" Clar'isca didn't answer. Ridania rushed forward, and stopped short as Clar'isca slumped forward, a large slash wound through her neck. At the same time, a geist, hidden behind Clar'isca's body, pounced towards Ridania. It was cut off mid-flight by a jet of flame and a knife, both striking it in opposing sides of the chest.

Ridania slumped to her knees, no even aware of the smouldering geist nearby. Rict ran over, and grabbed her shoulder. He shook her, and he head titled back to reveal that they were unfocused and flooded with tears. Rict swore.

"Ridania!" A single bottle, its tip on fire, flew in through the window. "We need to leave!" The bottle smashed against the wall near Ridania's head, some of the liquid landing on the prone body of Clar'isca. Ridania began to shake. "WE NEED TO GO!!" The fire ate at the liquid, and subsequently, at Clar'isca. Ridania simply sat there, eyes staring blankly, her face flooded.

Rict swore, and grabbed one of her arms, hoisting her onto his back. She struggled at first, but he held on, and jerk her straight fiercely. She finally complied, and he began carrying her towards the door. Maiev was busy, and only glanced back to them as she cut down another ghoul.

"Maiev! Get her to the ship!" He yelled. Maiev looked at him a moment. She shook her head,

"We need to be closer. I can't blink that far with a passenger."

Rict nodded, tearing out the window. Ridania was gradually becoming lighter, and Rict suspected it had something to do with the purple robes he wore. He cleared the door, and only just managed to raise his hand in time to blast away a gargoyle as it dive bombed for him. It tumbled away, screeching, its matted and decaying fur fuelling Rict's spell.

Rict turned, and his vision was filled with flame and fighting. Many of the blood elves and Draenei hadn't even gotten a chance to arm themselves properly. He saw a single Draenei putting up a particularly fierce fight with a kitchen knife in one hand and a frying pan in the other. He hacked with the blade and used the pan as a shield. Rict watched in horror, slinging a fire spell at one particular on coming skeleton. He missed, and the undead impaled the Draenei with the tip of his trident. Rict started to run.

Maiev was ahead of him, clearing a path. She seemed to be everywhere at once, the sound of her blinking marking a four four cadence. Blink, slash. Blink, stab. Blink, garrotte. Rict focused on running, hoping his faith in her was well placed. As it turned out, it was.

At some point while they fought through the scourge to the docks, an abomination seemed to slip past Maiev and take Rict by surprise. He let out a cry, and before he could react, there was a rapid succession of pops, and the abomination simply fell apart, its limbs tumbling off to the side, its innards spilling out before it. Some of the embalming fluid landed on Rict's robes, and it swiftly vanished.

Rict didn't bother being stunned this time, instead choosing to make sure he was still putting one leg in front of the other. He was becoming increasingly more terrified. They hadn't seen Melida anywhere, and some part of him couldn't help felling that she was dead. One foot in front of the other for now, was all he thought.

Rict was starring at the ground, and didn't even see Maiev come up next to him and lift Ridania off him.

"I'll look for Melida! Get back fast!" He yelled, nodding and turning back towards the fight. He struggled around Draenei and Blood elves, helping the fallen ones rise if he could. They rushed past him to the docks, where the ships where beginning to load up. He glanced back, and saw a single gnomish cannon firing large calibre shells into particularly dense pockets of scourge.

He disappeared into the throng of scourge and fleers. Maiev, appeared moments later. She glanced around rapidly, swore, and spun one of her crescents to cut down a geist mid leap. Rict was nowhere to be seen, and she saw a group of necromancers gather near the top of one of the few buildings not on fire.

Swearing to herself again, she blinked.

----------oOo----------

Venst woke up, his eyebrows creased from a blinding headache. Almost immediately, he felt the familiar sense as Cattriel began soothing the pain. Despite his annoyance at her acting without his consent, especially after last night, he couldn't help smiling slightly at the euphoric feeling.

_There's a reason I didn't get you exorcised. _He thought, rubbing his eyes. He glanced out the window. It was still night.

_Yes, this. And, the fact that if you did, you'd die too._ She said, her voice saturated with smugness as it rang through his head. _Speaking of which. I know you don't want to hear about this, but you need to feed me soon. My power is getting low, and you have almost no magic in you for me to feed on. I'm going to need a life force, as soon as possible if you want me to be able to restrain myself while I feed._

_Yeah, yeah. Shut up, I'll find something. There must be a few women on this ship. _He though, pulling his pants on.

_As I've always told you, it doesn't have to be women…_

_Shut up._

Venst blocked her chuckle out, and went to grab his shirt when the boat shifted abruptly.

"What the hell?" Venst muttered, forgoing the shirt for seeing what was happening. He immerged onto the deck, to find it bustling with men and women as they adjusted various aspects of the ships sails and we're carting coal down to the engine room. A man was off by the side of the ship, shouting various instructions at the sailors. Venst ran over.

_Peculiar…_

_Hey. When you feel the barrier go up, don't waste your power going around Miss Low energy._

The lack of response made Venst know she'd gotten back behind the barrier. He jogged over to the man.

"What's going on?" He asked, pulling up beside the man. In stead of voicing a response, the man simply pointed at a woman near the stern of the ship, with captain's strips emblazoned on her uniform. Venst nodded, and jogged over towards her. As he did, a pole from the mast swung by, and he dodged under it without breaking his stride.

The woman was talking to a man, who nodded and moved away. This left her free for Venst to converse with.

"What's going on?"

She looked at him, her arm pointing to a projection. It was a communicator projecting a Blood Elf yelling about something. It played for about a minute, then repeated.

"We're going on a detour." She said, turning away from him. Venst didn't take that well. He came around to her other side.

"What do you mean a detour?" He asked, he voice a little strained. "Where? For how long?"

She looked a little irate. "We received a distress signal from Quel'Danas, and we're heading there to transport wounded from a scourge attack to the better equipped citadel of Valgarde."

"Well wait a second." Venst said, becoming angry. "My daughter is in Valgarde, alone, right now. I can't let her be there any longer then it takes to get there. This ship is charted for Valgarde. We don't have time to waste picking up Blood Elves!"

Her eyes hardened in anger. "Listen sir, I don't know who you are, or care very much for the matter. I'm not having a bunch of Blood Elves die while I can prevent it. So, before you begin to be some un-believably selfish, perhaps you should consider all the families being destroyed because you don't want to wait two days longer to get your daughter."

Venst opened his mouth, but closed it, his face red.

"Its not those elves' fault you're an irresponsible parent. Now, if you have nothing else to say, I'm rather busy." She said, turning from him. Venst was quiet a moment, before speaking up again.

"Alright, fine. Is there anything I can do to help then?"

She looked over her shoulder. "If you're so concerned about how long this detour is going to take, then why don't you help bring down more fuel to the engine room. I have a goblin down there working to get the engine to run faster, but he said he'd need a lot of fuel. You can do that."

Without even bothering to answer, Venst left. He located where the surplus fuel was being stored, and began carrying a bag. As usual, Cattriel supplemented his muscles with some demonic strength as well. It made the work considerably easier.

_I take we'll be feeding on her then? _She asked, her voice a little strained from the effort of channelling the strength.

_Yeah. And you can use a little more juice. I have a feeling your going to be set for a while after tonight._ Venst thought.

_Just don't let us kill her. You still need to find Melida._

_Of course._

----------oOo----------

Melida froze. Fires played across her eyes, the vision of the town on fire more then enough to stun her. Several buildings were almost completely incinerated, and the few that weren't had black light shows playing across their roofs.

A zombie next to Melida tried to ripe out her throat, and came close to doing it too. Its hand was only six inches from her neck when it burst into flames. Melida swore. What ever was protecting her was wearing out. The smaller version of her floated nearby, its colour becoming more purple then white every second. Melida chose to continue running instead of worrying.

She got maybe forty feet before she was intercepted. A blood elf, he's chest torn open, toppled toward Melida, catching her and pinning her to the ground. His dead weight on top of her knocked the air from her lungs. She struggled for breath, trying not to panic as her clothes began to get soaked in blood. She focused, and tired desperately to do a partial muscle shift. Not only did he manage it, she didn't even feel the need to concentrate to do it. She pushed the body off her, and shuffled away as it began to twitch into un-death.

Melida began to rise to her feet, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, and saw a blood elf, very much alive, standing next to her. She smiled, but it faltered as she watched him bring his arm back, sword caked in blood. She shrieked as he swung out at her, mistaking her for one of the scourge. The miniature version of her let a shrill cry as well, and the two of them held up their hands in a feeble attempt to prevent him from swinging.

Through all this, Melida had kept her eyes open. Even through the tears though, she saw the jet of bluish white as it streaked past and struck the blood elf in the side, sending him flying, partially frozen, into a nearby pile of scourge. The next thing Melida knew, three thick fingers were pulling her to her feet. She shook the water from her eyes.

"Ye be alive den?" The troll asked. Melida found nodding was the most appropriate answer. "Alright den. We be getting' outta heya." He said. "Hop on mah back." He said. Melida obeyed, still stunned by the shift of events. Later, she would realise this could have been an extremely bad idea. At the time, she tried to rationalize it with the fact that the troll was speaking common. She climbed up, and a thin flim of pale light surrounded the two of them.

"I sense some mojo about ya. See if ya can channel some a' dat inta me eh?" He yelled above the roar of chaos. Melida didn't know what he meant, so she tried communing with his body. Almost instantly, the smaller version of her glowed brightly, and a pale light descended from it into the troll. At the same time, the radius of the blue shield nearly tripled in size, and the troll buckled. "Easy der… Alright, I got it. Let's go!"

"Where are we going?" Melida cried into his ear.

"Da inn mon! I need ta find ma' friend!"

And with that, Melida and her saviour ran through the crowd. Any who came too close to them, be they alive or not, was sent flying as they bounced of the shield's shell.

----------oOo----------

Brann carried the wounded man into the small encampment. His muscles were tired, this being close to the thirtieth one so far. Still, any complaints he could have made were trounced by the priestess who had been working frantically for over the past hour. She had sweat pouring down from her face, and her robes clung tightly to her figure. He tail was particularly wet, and if you took the time to smell it, it would have scented of sweat, dirt, blood and herbs.

As Brann carried the newest soldier into her makeshift hospital, she began her ministrations over him.

"That's the last one." Brann said, collapsing next to her. Of the twenty men she and Brann had hooked up with, nine were wounded, of which two died late, eight were killed outright, and three were left to help Brann deal with the wounded. They'd all probably be dead if it weren't for Yazmina. Right from the outset she'd been performing rapid healings on the wounded, and they'd managed to continue fighting. She'd tried to use first on them at first as well, but soon there simply wasn't enough time.

As Brann sat there, gasping for breath, he wondered where Maiev and Rict were at the moment. _Probably sleeping soundly on their ship_. He was deep in thought when he noticed that Yazmina had slumped down beside him. She was crying. She tried feebly to make some light flow from her hands, but she would only get about two or three inches worth before it fizzled out. The man before her was evidently dead. Brann knew he wasn't going to make it when he dragged him in. Still, he couldn't leave him there.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down lass. Ye' can't save em all.." He said, rummaging through his pocket. He produced a small hip flask, its sides engraved with hammers of the Bronzebeard clan. He removed the lid, and offered it to her.

She didn't notice at first, but after he prodded her a little, she took the flask. Looking at it, she glanced back it him. "No thank you." She said, passing it back. Brann stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"No can do missy. That's the sharin' flask. Once ye touch it ye gotta taste it." He said, smiling at her lightly. She sighed, and took a swig from the flask.

She immediately started coughing. "Is this alcohol?" She asked stupidly. Brann nodded, taking the flask from her. "This seems hardy an appropriate time to be drinking…" She said darkly.

"Yer' speakin' to a dwarf miss. It's always a good time fer' a drink." He said, said, fiddling with the top. He glanced up at her, putting his most convincing smile on, "But tell me. Do ye' feel any better?" He said.

"Of course no-" She stopped herself, tracing her hand across her tail. "Actually… I do." Without any other words, she got back up and returned to the soldiers, stitching and healing with renewed vigour.

Brann leaned back a little. "Need any help?" He asked. She shook he head, so he leaned a little further. He felt pleased with himself. Then he re-registered the body in front of him and sighed. He reloaded his gun and placed it beside him.

Taking a big swig from the bottle, he tipped his hat down and tried to get some sleep.

----------oOo----------

Rict pressed his back up against the wall. Now that he was past the crush of refugees, there were a lot more scourge then the living. Trying a variation of his normal fire spell, he sent a blast wave out, engulfing maybe twenty undead and a Draenei. He cringed as the Draenei's scream were cut short.

He continued on, looking for any trances of Melida. In his head he was counting slowly. When he reached three thousand, he'd have to give up finding her and try to get back to the ship. He'd have to think about giving up on her at least.

A trio of swordsman who'd just seen what he'd done to the scourge gathered around him, trying their best to protect him in hope that he would help them fight towards the docks. If there hadn't been so distracted by the scourge, they might have noticed that he was going in the opposite direction they wanted to go.

A minute later, they were surrounded. Before Rict could do much of anything, the Blood Elf on his right had his arm torn off, sword and all. He collapsed, and was covered by a crush of zombies. One of the other blood elves reached out for him, and was yanked into the group too. Rict swore, and cast his blast wave in front of him. Without waiting, he tore off, leaving the last blood elf calling after him. The distraction let Rict escape, but the other elf was cleaved in two.

Rict ran around the corner of a building, and was relieved to see no scourge there. This was short lived however, as he felt the thudding steps of something particularly heavy behind him. He dove forward on reflex, and hit the ground, trying to turn his momentum into a roll that would put him back on his feet. He was marginally successful, and managed to get to his knees. She swallowed as he saw where the abomination's cleaver would have struck had he not dived.

He heard a small pop, and could have kissed Maiev's booted feet. She was panting, covered in blood, but otherwise alright. Before Rict could react, she rolled around the abomination's feet, slicing its legs. It fell over backwards, going limp and bleeding out.

"Come on. Time to go!" She said, grabbing Rict by the arm. Rict didn't get a chance to warn her. The second abomination's meaty fist connected with the side of her head, sending her helmet flying, and her into the wall next to Rict. Rict cried out, recoiling. Maiev slumped down the side of the wall, unconscious. Rict jumped backwards, throwing a fireball at the abomination to get its attention focused on him. It worked, and the beast turned on him.

Immediately he regretted it, as the abomination came at him, cleaver and scythe swinging wildly. He threw another fire spell at it, but it had little effect. This one was slick with blood, and the flames could to little to find a purchase on its body. Rict dodged as the abomination sent a hook and chain flying towards him, finding the time to draw the sword at his waist while he did. He held it aloft, with strangely practiced ease, and swore as he realised he'd given the abomination enough time to close into melee range. He raised the sword to block the cleaver now being swung at his head, and began calling up another fire spell.

The blade burst into flames, and sliced easily through the cleaver. The broken weapon fell limply from the abomination's hand. Just as quickly as the fire came, it went out. However, the bright light distracted the monster, giving Rict enough time to attack. He brought the sword round in a slicing arc, cutting through all the stitched holding the abomination's innards in.

The abomination fell over, going still. A dark pool formed beneath it, and Rict bent over, gasping for breath. He felt two things. One was the feeling of a blade flying past the top of his head. The other was another chained hook slicing into his arm. His arm began to tingle, and he glanced up. He swore as a third abomination ran towards him, its arms dropping the chains of its missed hooks. Rict tried to raise his sword, but his arm was numb, and it hung limply by his side. He sent a fireball flying with his other hand, and it burst against something covering the abomination's skin, causing a blast of smoke. Rict fell backwards, and the abomination charged onwards.

He shuffled backwards, regretting not being able to get Melida and now Maiev, out of here. The Abomination laughed as it came towards him, its feeble attempt at a voice warbling in its meaty throat.

Its voice caught in its throat as a jet of ice struck it head on, freezing it on the spot. Its eyes moved around, but its limbs were struck fast. Something flashed past Rict, and a voice.

"Rict!" Melida screamed. She was riding piggy back on a troll. Without pausing in his stride the troll ran past Rict, swooped up his sword, and swung it at the Abomination. The monster shattered, frozen chunks tumbling everywhere. The troll turned, and helped lift Rict up. Clutching his arm, Rict took the sword back, and returned it to his sheath.

The tingly sensation in his arm began to ebb, and he flexed it tentatively. Glancing down, where there should have been a gash, now there was only an undamaged sleeve. He yanked it up as Melida jumped down. There were small faint sparks floating over a pale scar on his arm. Other then that, it was undamaged.

"Rict!" Melida grabbed him round the waist. Even though she was covered in blood, no stain appeared on the robes. Rict hugged her back fiercely.

"Melida! Your alright! Thank the light! Come on, we need to leave!" He yelled. Melida shook her head.

"We need to rescue Moon'Jin's friend at the inn first." She cried back. The sound of fighting was getting louder. Rict glanced at the Troll, who was looking at the inn's smouldering remains. He glanced back at Rict.

"Eh mon, did Clar'isca burn wit da inn?" He said, a single tear streaking down the side of his face to rest on his left tusk. Rict swallowed, and nodded slowly. The trolls nodded, wiping the tear away. "Bettah' dat den da scourge takin' her."

Rict was silent. So was Melida.

"Okay, how we gettin' outta heya? Ma plan involved Clar, so I hope you gots a plan."

"There are ships at the dock. Ones waiting for us. We've got maybe five minutes to get there."

"Fuck… Okay den, les go mon."

The troll raised his shield, and Melida placed her hands against his back, causing it to increase in size. The group ran towards the street.

"Hold on!" Rict yelled. The other two stopped, and Melida cried out in shock as she realised who Rict was picking up. "Let's go!"

They ran. They ran, doing nothing else. The act of putting one leg in front of the other was all that was keeping them from falling over and collapsing of exhaustion. Rict was grateful that Maiev was much lighter then Ridania, which he found strange considering her armour. As they ran, he noticed that he leg armour hadn't gone un-damaged, and that here was a sickly green gash in her leg. Remembering the geist blades, Rict urged the group on faster.

They finally came within sight of the boat. All the cannons were manned now, and buildings and the like were exploding, shells being fired to stem the flow of undead towards the dock. The rare gargoyle in the sky was rapidly cut down by gust of razor wind if they approached the ship. Moon'jin send out a cone of icy wind, freezing a great portion of the scourge in front of them. Rict followed that up with a concussive blast of flame, and they blew apart.

They hit the dock, and Moon'jin had t lower the shield. As they ran its length, Rict felt a white hot pain in the back of his leg, and he almost dropped Maiev. They hit the ramp just as the final crush of undead came rolling out of the town. Rict and the others hit the deck as the ship began to pull away.

Then everything was dark.

Oo-----------oO

Ugh, couldn't sleep, so here's the next chapter.

Ps. I'm looking for a Proof reader, and someone to bounce ideas off of. If you want to help, leave a review with your name, and email.

REVIEW DAMNIT!!!!

PSS. 5000 words, so there time.


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